So... Dumont delivers another elemental masterpiece with Flandres. The basic plot - a love triangle between young farmhands Barbe, Demester and Blondel is broken up when the males are drafted into a foreign war - provides another opportunity to experience the world through Dumont's eyes for 90 minutes. In his trademark cinemascope style, Dumont builds a fantastical landscape from naturalist elements. A pig snuffling in the dirt, the amplified breathing of a farmhand, the frozen branches of a tree, semen dripping from a woman's fist, elements that together convey a deep existential yearning. It is the Moroccan scenes that stray the furthest from any notion of realism, effectively condensing the dull horror of war whilst seeming to exist in Barbe's imagination. As Demester follows his animal desire and Barbe is driven to madness by the world's random brutality, the film steadily builds towards a finale that is notable for both its redemptive humanism and its moral relativism.
Btw, for those who are interested, Flandres is currently without a UK distributor despite winning 2nd prize at Cannes. The simple reason for this, strange as it may sound, is that the managers of the City Screen exhibition chain have a personal dislike for Dumont's work. City Screen now have a virtual monopoly over the UK's arthouse circuit, owning most of the major London screens (Curzon Soho, Curzon Mayfair, Ritzy, Renoir) and virtually every arthouse cinema outside London. Their refusal to screen Twentynine Palms denied the film any chance at theatrical success in the UK and any distributor purchasing Flandres now runs the same risk. Having been recently bought out by a large American conglomerate, the signs are that this is only the tip of the iceberg and City Screen's programming is likely to become increasingly limited in future.
Bruno Dumont
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colinr0380
- Joined: Mon Nov 08, 2004 4:30 pm
- Location: Chapel-en-le-Frith, Derbyshire, UK
That City Screen problem is a shame. Flanders is a film firmly on my 'must see' list. I thought Twentynine Palms was very good and Humanité was fantastic, so I can't imagine what about Dumont's work they don't like. Perhaps the long stretches of nothingness occasionally punctuated with violent, angry sex? I hate to say it but I don't often get to the cinema anyway, however I guess the cinema distribution has a knock-on impact on any future DVD release and television showings. Perhaps Tartan will pick the film up for their DVD line like they did with Twentynine Palms?
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Cinetwist
- Joined: Fri Jun 09, 2006 7:00 am
- Location: England
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Don Lope de Aguirre
- Joined: Fri Apr 14, 2006 5:39 pm
- Location: London
I saw this film at the LFF and was fully expecting to like it but I came away with the certain conclusion that Dumont, simply, needs to get a life!So... Dumont delivers another elemental masterpiece with Flandres.
Why the obsession with sex? The 'lead' female is a nymphomaniac, lead male experiences the dull horror of war which involves taking part in...(you guessed it) gang rape, being captured and seeing one of his mates (wait for it...) having his penis cut off. Meanwhile 'lead' female goes to hospital where they perform an operation to sew her legs together (even then she'll find a way!)
This film left me in no doubt that Bruno Dumont is a charlatan. That it can be called a masterpiece is an insult to any viewer's intelligence. You really ought to be able to see through this
If you want to watch a good Dumont film, watch his first one.
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Nothing
- Joined: Fri Oct 20, 2006 4:04 am
City Screen now own the Renoir.
Tartan picked up Twentynine Palms for theatrical but City Screen refused to play ball. It ended up being delayed for a year, then playing at the Cine Lumiere for a week before being dumped on DVD. Similar problem with Choses Secretes and some others.
re: Flandres, to be more specific, you could say that, having won the Grand Prix, Dumont's people will expect a certain size of release and a certain amount of money (fair enough) and the City Screen issue obstructs this... The film will perhaps get picked up for less eventually.
Aguirre: like all Dumont's work, the film lives and breathes. Without air, we would not exist. Without sex, we would not exist. Each of Dumont's films is equally brilliant, I would not like to pick a favourite.
Tartan picked up Twentynine Palms for theatrical but City Screen refused to play ball. It ended up being delayed for a year, then playing at the Cine Lumiere for a week before being dumped on DVD. Similar problem with Choses Secretes and some others.
re: Flandres, to be more specific, you could say that, having won the Grand Prix, Dumont's people will expect a certain size of release and a certain amount of money (fair enough) and the City Screen issue obstructs this... The film will perhaps get picked up for less eventually.
Aguirre: like all Dumont's work, the film lives and breathes. Without air, we would not exist. Without sex, we would not exist. Each of Dumont's films is equally brilliant, I would not like to pick a favourite.
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John Cope
- Joined: Thu Dec 15, 2005 5:40 pm
- Location: where the simulacrum is true
Just saw this and was deeply impressed. To put a point on it, I was frustrated by my experience with it but in a way which gradually revealed itself to be of great worth. Certainly there is nothing arbitrary here.
And perhaps that's exactly what I struggled with at first as I often do with Dumont (and yet I always return to him); I continue to question whether his work, his insights are profound or banal. I think this is the crux of the issue in terms of his success as a filmmaker. It really can't be overstated. Either Dumont is making us see things anew, penetrating through habit and routine and lazy viewing, or he is quite simply a fraud, making demands on our time and patience which cannot be repaid by the obvious, first level observations he arrives at. His provocations insist that we take a stand on his underlying moral and philosophical positionings and they are of the utmost importance. They have a great bearing on what kind of life is true.
I actually like the fact that I continue to be sceptical of Dumont's accomplishment as I think that uncertainty is an appropriate response to what he presents us with. In Flandres, I initially felt like writing the whole thing off as a catalogue of cliches. The early scenes in the village are more promising than the eventual combat material as that just feels like a checklist of rote atrocities neatly managed and ticked off one by one. But somewhere along the way what becomes undeniable is what should have been obvious all along: Dumont's strategy, as ever, relies on a presentational style, similar in a sense to the declamatory dialogue in Greenaway. Only once we surrender an expectation of what a film of this type is supposed to do can we receive anything from it. Clearly, it's designed as more than simply an anti-war film but one which questions the aesthetic premises upon which anti-war films are made. In this way it is far closer to Les Carabiniers than something like Platoon.
The composition and framing, the presentational aesthetic, is primary as a means of understanding. Also, the dialed down performances, where reaction to horror is not even muted, it is simply indifference. Dumont's interest is not "realistic"; the soldiers would otherwise be a poorly trained lot, going through the motions like it's all part of some not particularly important rehearsal. In this way Dumont demands that we look at the actions differently, divorced from presiding moral precepts. He severs a connection between the central unit and any larger context which would suggest purpose beyond the immediate, and in doing so foregrounds the theatrics of the actions, their import as object lessons on base human inclinations. This stripping down of the essentials serves to render everything as open to interpretation. Dumont manages the not inconsiderable feat of privileging sensational images and yet accomplishing a kind of remove from them; there is no evidence of a preferred method of understanding. What this results in is the deeply disturbing sense that the actions we see are not inherently evil. We recognize, in other words, our participation in reading these actions a certain way that casts a moral quality onto them. Now that doesn't invalidate the act of reading them in that way as some relativists would have it but it does force a deeper epistemological understanding of images of atrocity than what we get in most work on this subject.
Having said that I still ultimately prefer the insights served up by movies like The Thin Red Line, Sokurov's Spiritual Voices and Oliveira's No, or The Vain Glory of Command. But that's because I already agree with their initial premises and their speculative reasoning is in line with my own philosophical axioms. Flandres may still seem too restricted in its aims but it flatters no one and does not condescend and for that Dumont has my admiration.
And perhaps that's exactly what I struggled with at first as I often do with Dumont (and yet I always return to him); I continue to question whether his work, his insights are profound or banal. I think this is the crux of the issue in terms of his success as a filmmaker. It really can't be overstated. Either Dumont is making us see things anew, penetrating through habit and routine and lazy viewing, or he is quite simply a fraud, making demands on our time and patience which cannot be repaid by the obvious, first level observations he arrives at. His provocations insist that we take a stand on his underlying moral and philosophical positionings and they are of the utmost importance. They have a great bearing on what kind of life is true.
I actually like the fact that I continue to be sceptical of Dumont's accomplishment as I think that uncertainty is an appropriate response to what he presents us with. In Flandres, I initially felt like writing the whole thing off as a catalogue of cliches. The early scenes in the village are more promising than the eventual combat material as that just feels like a checklist of rote atrocities neatly managed and ticked off one by one. But somewhere along the way what becomes undeniable is what should have been obvious all along: Dumont's strategy, as ever, relies on a presentational style, similar in a sense to the declamatory dialogue in Greenaway. Only once we surrender an expectation of what a film of this type is supposed to do can we receive anything from it. Clearly, it's designed as more than simply an anti-war film but one which questions the aesthetic premises upon which anti-war films are made. In this way it is far closer to Les Carabiniers than something like Platoon.
The composition and framing, the presentational aesthetic, is primary as a means of understanding. Also, the dialed down performances, where reaction to horror is not even muted, it is simply indifference. Dumont's interest is not "realistic"; the soldiers would otherwise be a poorly trained lot, going through the motions like it's all part of some not particularly important rehearsal. In this way Dumont demands that we look at the actions differently, divorced from presiding moral precepts. He severs a connection between the central unit and any larger context which would suggest purpose beyond the immediate, and in doing so foregrounds the theatrics of the actions, their import as object lessons on base human inclinations. This stripping down of the essentials serves to render everything as open to interpretation. Dumont manages the not inconsiderable feat of privileging sensational images and yet accomplishing a kind of remove from them; there is no evidence of a preferred method of understanding. What this results in is the deeply disturbing sense that the actions we see are not inherently evil. We recognize, in other words, our participation in reading these actions a certain way that casts a moral quality onto them. Now that doesn't invalidate the act of reading them in that way as some relativists would have it but it does force a deeper epistemological understanding of images of atrocity than what we get in most work on this subject.
Having said that I still ultimately prefer the insights served up by movies like The Thin Red Line, Sokurov's Spiritual Voices and Oliveira's No, or The Vain Glory of Command. But that's because I already agree with their initial premises and their speculative reasoning is in line with my own philosophical axioms. Flandres may still seem too restricted in its aims but it flatters no one and does not condescend and for that Dumont has my admiration.
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colinr0380
- Joined: Mon Nov 08, 2004 4:30 pm
- Location: Chapel-en-le-Frith, Derbyshire, UK
That is an excellent analysis and talks about the same things which interest and disturb me about Dumont's work. I still haven't seen Flandres, but it sounds promising that a lot of your comments can be applied to his previous films.
I could completely see this story being treated in a Jerry Springer-style: "I like to have daring outdoor sex with my boyfriend, but since his gang rape he has lost interest and treats me badly"
"Let's bring out your boyfriend" (audience whoops) "David, don't you find Katia attractive any more?" (boos) "I guess I don't feel manly enough for her, Jerry" "You haven't seen him in months....now let's bring out the man who assaulted you!" (cue massive fight scene with chairs being thrown as the audience screams hysterically)
It is also interesting that the other scene shown on television is a slow pan over a strange, semi-dark flickering background for no particular reason, which then returns to where it began. But it is that lack of understanding of why such an image is being filmed that holds the attention, at least for a moment, of David and Katia - the idea that something will happen to make the image understandable (we could say the assault is the action that makes the rest of Twentynine Palms understandable - the thing that pushes the couple's relationship to its ugly conclusion while, had that event not occured, the relationship might just have petered out in a less spectacular fashion!) When Katia asks David what is being shown on the television, he says it seems like an art film. So it seems in these early scenes Dumont is setting up just what you were saying - am I an arty director with a 'higher purpose' of wanting to reveal certain underlying behaviours and insecurities that motivate our actions; or just another talk show host revelling in other people's misery and giving you a lot of shagging?
I also think the sex scenes in Twentynine Palms are extremely funny, albeit with an edge - all that energy for such little results! Perhaps intentionally so: the swimming pool one in particular runs the pool sex scene between Elizabeth Berkley and Kyle McLachlan in Showgirls a close second for ridiculousness! (Is underwater fellatio possible in any way without drowning?!)
It seems particularly futile in that it doesn't bring them closer together, and far from being an expression of love, in a way the sex gets rougher and less and less fun the closer to the end of the film and the real assault they get.
I added a shot length analysis of Twentynine Palms and L'Humanité to the Cinemetrics database a couple of weeks ago.
I think a big example of this is the scene in Twentynine Palms with the Jerry Springer show playing in the hotel room that shows Katia's feeling of sorrow for the people relating their stories, which seems completely in opposition to the intent of the holier-than-thou, 'jeering at the white trash' show itself. She is getting much more out of the show than probably was intended.John Cope wrote:And perhaps that's exactly what I struggled with at first as I often do with Dumont (and yet I always return to him); I continue to question whether his work, his insights are profound or banal. I think this is the crux of the issue in terms of his success as a filmmaker. It really can't be overstated. Either Dumont is making us see things anew, penetrating through habit and routine and lazy viewing, or he is quite simply a fraud, making demands on our time and patience which cannot be repaid by the obvious, first level observations he arrives at. His provocations insist that we take a stand on his underlying moral and philosophical positionings and they are of the utmost importance. They have a great bearing on what kind of life is true.
I could completely see this story being treated in a Jerry Springer-style: "I like to have daring outdoor sex with my boyfriend, but since his gang rape he has lost interest and treats me badly"
"Let's bring out your boyfriend" (audience whoops) "David, don't you find Katia attractive any more?" (boos) "I guess I don't feel manly enough for her, Jerry" "You haven't seen him in months....now let's bring out the man who assaulted you!" (cue massive fight scene with chairs being thrown as the audience screams hysterically)
It is also interesting that the other scene shown on television is a slow pan over a strange, semi-dark flickering background for no particular reason, which then returns to where it began. But it is that lack of understanding of why such an image is being filmed that holds the attention, at least for a moment, of David and Katia - the idea that something will happen to make the image understandable (we could say the assault is the action that makes the rest of Twentynine Palms understandable - the thing that pushes the couple's relationship to its ugly conclusion while, had that event not occured, the relationship might just have petered out in a less spectacular fashion!) When Katia asks David what is being shown on the television, he says it seems like an art film. So it seems in these early scenes Dumont is setting up just what you were saying - am I an arty director with a 'higher purpose' of wanting to reveal certain underlying behaviours and insecurities that motivate our actions; or just another talk show host revelling in other people's misery and giving you a lot of shagging?
I also think the sex scenes in Twentynine Palms are extremely funny, albeit with an edge - all that energy for such little results! Perhaps intentionally so: the swimming pool one in particular runs the pool sex scene between Elizabeth Berkley and Kyle McLachlan in Showgirls a close second for ridiculousness! (Is underwater fellatio possible in any way without drowning?!)
It seems particularly futile in that it doesn't bring them closer together, and far from being an expression of love, in a way the sex gets rougher and less and less fun the closer to the end of the film and the real assault they get.
I added a shot length analysis of Twentynine Palms and L'Humanité to the Cinemetrics database a couple of weeks ago.
Last edited by colinr0380 on Wed Apr 11, 2007 6:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Nothing
- Joined: Fri Oct 20, 2006 4:04 am
fwiw, Dumont now claims to regret the "Hollywood" ending (sic) of Twentynine Palms wishing, instead, that he had ended the film after David's rape but before the final explosion. How much these feelings are related to the critical/commercial reception of the film is of course open to debate.
In the case of Flandres, the film originally concluded with a reputedly extreme sequence in which Demester slaughters Barbe, her family and others... This version was screened to the Cannes committee (and rejected for the Official Competition) + a handful of French critics, before Dumont decided to end the film at an earlier juncture. Certainly, the ending of the final cut works well and plays against expectation (I haven't seen the originally intended ending).
In the case of Flandres, the film originally concluded with a reputedly extreme sequence in which Demester slaughters Barbe, her family and others... This version was screened to the Cannes committee (and rejected for the Official Competition) + a handful of French critics, before Dumont decided to end the film at an earlier juncture. Certainly, the ending of the final cut works well and plays against expectation (I haven't seen the originally intended ending).
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Barmy
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2005 3:59 pm
This is a very good film. Kudos to Bruno for not shooting in DV despite his limited budget. The African war scenes were shot in 16mm and look great. I'm glad Demester didn't slaughter everybody. What a cliche.
Last edited by Barmy on Tue Mar 06, 2007 4:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Nothing
- Joined: Fri Oct 20, 2006 4:04 am
Yup, mustn't deal with real life. Romantic comedies are the way to go...Stephen Holden wrote: "enough already. The time has come for Mr. Dumont to crack a smile and tackle a romantic comedy."
Barmy, are you sure the war scenes are S16mm? Grainy, yes, but I assumed they were underexposing and pushing the neg. Dumont has always shot 35mm anamorphic in the past.
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Barmy
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2005 3:59 pm
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colinr0380
- Joined: Mon Nov 08, 2004 4:30 pm
- Location: Chapel-en-le-Frith, Derbyshire, UK
SPOILERS FOR L'HUMANITE AND TWENTYNINE PALMS:
I'm not sure his films are about a bestiality exposed but more that his characters don't know how to properly respond to what is going on around them, or they at least don't respond in a socially acceptable way. I actually haven't seen the Life of Jesus yet (when I last tried to order it I got a DVD of the life of another Jesus!) but it sounds like this film is the one that treats the themes in a way most are familiar with: the unemployed youths running wild and attacking immigrants.
L'Humanite seems to internalise these themes. Pharaon has a good job and a place in society but doesn't seem to be able to react to people properly (watching the couple having sex, his dealings with the guy in the interrogation room) and the film seems as aimless as he is with the murder case disappearing for long periods and other events, even though nothing may narratively come out of them apart from developing the characters, being given equal weight by the film.
I liked the way that even though Pharaon is the more extreme example of this everyone seems lost in the film, searching for some sort of connection that will make sense. The murder plot shows this most clearly with the pointless visits to the dead girl's parents, or the useless digression in England that bizarrely bears fruit when a couple suggests they saw a flash of something from the high speed train (their need to feel of some use prompting them to say this?). All the events feel completely disconnected though, there is no cause and effect and no sense of the investigation actually proceeding anywhere meaningful.
Which makes the ending disturbing as the murderer is revealed and we just have to accept it, just as we had to accept the motivations of Pharaon in giving his painting to the museum. We don't see how we arrived at the conclusion we are at, or the steps taken to get there, just that we are being presented with it. This disjointedness casts a lot of doubt over the outcome of the investigation, just as it makes us question why Domino lays herself bare (in a number of ways!) to Pharaon, or how Pharaon came to be stumbling across that field back to his abandoned car in the opening shot of the film.
And then Twentynine Palms seems to deal with the main character's insecurities in their relationship and the crisis of masculinity (with the references to whether Katia would prefer a soldier for a boyfriend and the enormous SUV that seemingly protects them from the outside world) which turns out to be the more fragile aspect of the relationship than the female partner - though the film wrongfoots us by continually suggesting she is the more threatened by the outside forces (the film focusing on her urinating when she has asked David to turn away and give her privacy; her fear of the cars passing when she is alone outside the motel room in the middle of the night). In a way her eventual status as a victim only comes because she allied herself with the wrong man. That marked her for death from the beginning of the film (perhaps shown by her looking as pale as a corpse lying on the back seat of the car in the first couple of shots we see of her) and the fear that she senses and the trouble with the relationship was maybe a subconcious realisation of the insecurities between her and David that would have doomed it even before the brutal ending fractured David's sense of self.
I think rather than condeming David though, the film shows someone who has lost all bearings with the world after that assault. The insecurities and latent aggressiveness displayed earlier in their petty arguments and rough sex is all that's left when the world has bared its teeth and shown the violence at the root of society.
I'm not sure David shows his bestiality at the end of Twentynine Palms. Instead I think it is a terribly human reaction of frustration and pain, taken out on the person closest to him because there is no way of asserting himself over his attackers or the brutal society which they all are a part of. We can see these isolated explosions of violence all over in real life - people who 'just crack' one day. But we never really come to understand the psychological pressure on them that takes them to that point compared to others who seem to be able to drift through the world without such problems (the comparison is best made in Gus Van Sant's Elephant). That final tragic sequence of Katia's body lying on the motel room bed as the morning sun comes through the window, cutting to David lying dead in the desert next to his enormous truck/car is perhaps as much a condemnation on the world surrounding the characters as it is the actions of David. Best shown by the policeman aimlessly meandering further and further away from David and the car and into the desert, missing the point of the evidence right in front of him as he becomes a speck in the distance....
EDIT: Strictly Film School review of Flandres
As I implied in my post above, I was already under the impression Twentynine Palms was a sort of romantic comedy!tavernier wrote:Stephen Holden in the NY Times:
"As in every Dumont film, civilized behavior is portrayed as camouflage over a fundamental bestiality. To which I say, enough already. The time has come for Mr. Dumont to crack a smile and tackle a romantic comedy."
I'm not sure his films are about a bestiality exposed but more that his characters don't know how to properly respond to what is going on around them, or they at least don't respond in a socially acceptable way. I actually haven't seen the Life of Jesus yet (when I last tried to order it I got a DVD of the life of another Jesus!) but it sounds like this film is the one that treats the themes in a way most are familiar with: the unemployed youths running wild and attacking immigrants.
L'Humanite seems to internalise these themes. Pharaon has a good job and a place in society but doesn't seem to be able to react to people properly (watching the couple having sex, his dealings with the guy in the interrogation room) and the film seems as aimless as he is with the murder case disappearing for long periods and other events, even though nothing may narratively come out of them apart from developing the characters, being given equal weight by the film.
I liked the way that even though Pharaon is the more extreme example of this everyone seems lost in the film, searching for some sort of connection that will make sense. The murder plot shows this most clearly with the pointless visits to the dead girl's parents, or the useless digression in England that bizarrely bears fruit when a couple suggests they saw a flash of something from the high speed train (their need to feel of some use prompting them to say this?). All the events feel completely disconnected though, there is no cause and effect and no sense of the investigation actually proceeding anywhere meaningful.
Which makes the ending disturbing as the murderer is revealed and we just have to accept it, just as we had to accept the motivations of Pharaon in giving his painting to the museum. We don't see how we arrived at the conclusion we are at, or the steps taken to get there, just that we are being presented with it. This disjointedness casts a lot of doubt over the outcome of the investigation, just as it makes us question why Domino lays herself bare (in a number of ways!) to Pharaon, or how Pharaon came to be stumbling across that field back to his abandoned car in the opening shot of the film.
And then Twentynine Palms seems to deal with the main character's insecurities in their relationship and the crisis of masculinity (with the references to whether Katia would prefer a soldier for a boyfriend and the enormous SUV that seemingly protects them from the outside world) which turns out to be the more fragile aspect of the relationship than the female partner - though the film wrongfoots us by continually suggesting she is the more threatened by the outside forces (the film focusing on her urinating when she has asked David to turn away and give her privacy; her fear of the cars passing when she is alone outside the motel room in the middle of the night). In a way her eventual status as a victim only comes because she allied herself with the wrong man. That marked her for death from the beginning of the film (perhaps shown by her looking as pale as a corpse lying on the back seat of the car in the first couple of shots we see of her) and the fear that she senses and the trouble with the relationship was maybe a subconcious realisation of the insecurities between her and David that would have doomed it even before the brutal ending fractured David's sense of self.
I think rather than condeming David though, the film shows someone who has lost all bearings with the world after that assault. The insecurities and latent aggressiveness displayed earlier in their petty arguments and rough sex is all that's left when the world has bared its teeth and shown the violence at the root of society.
I'm not sure David shows his bestiality at the end of Twentynine Palms. Instead I think it is a terribly human reaction of frustration and pain, taken out on the person closest to him because there is no way of asserting himself over his attackers or the brutal society which they all are a part of. We can see these isolated explosions of violence all over in real life - people who 'just crack' one day. But we never really come to understand the psychological pressure on them that takes them to that point compared to others who seem to be able to drift through the world without such problems (the comparison is best made in Gus Van Sant's Elephant). That final tragic sequence of Katia's body lying on the motel room bed as the morning sun comes through the window, cutting to David lying dead in the desert next to his enormous truck/car is perhaps as much a condemnation on the world surrounding the characters as it is the actions of David. Best shown by the policeman aimlessly meandering further and further away from David and the car and into the desert, missing the point of the evidence right in front of him as he becomes a speck in the distance....
EDIT: Strictly Film School review of Flandres
Last edited by colinr0380 on Tue Apr 10, 2007 10:43 am, edited 4 times in total.
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chaddoli
- Joined: Thu Nov 04, 2004 11:41 pm
- Location: New York City
- Contact:
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Don Lope de Aguirre
- Joined: Fri Apr 14, 2006 5:39 pm
- Location: London
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Der Müde Tod
- Joined: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:50 am
So, following the recommendations, I watched The Life of Jesus and Twentynine Palms. While the Wellspring release of the latter isn't great, the Fox Lorber release of the former is an abomination. The film itself is fascinating, but being forced to think all the time "this would be a stunning image if only it was better visible" spoils the experience.
Here the question: Is the R2 release (Éditions Montparnasse) of The Life of Jesus any better?
From Beaver I learn that the AI release of L'Humanité is the one to go for, and that Blaq Out has a better release of Twentynine Palms.
Here the question: Is the R2 release (Éditions Montparnasse) of The Life of Jesus any better?
From Beaver I learn that the AI release of L'Humanité is the one to go for, and that Blaq Out has a better release of Twentynine Palms.
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John Cope
- Joined: Thu Dec 15, 2005 5:40 pm
- Location: where the simulacrum is true
Armond's surprisingly positive take.
Although most of his observations are pretty strong, I'm not so sure about this:
Although most of his observations are pretty strong, I'm not so sure about this:
I thought Hollywood privilege was relatable to dumb instinct. Where did I go wrong? Or is he saying that it would ultimately be the same thing in a boudoir as in a barnyard? I suspect that's what Dumont thinks.Andre and Blondel's heavy brows and mulish features, and raggedy Barbe's limp gait give them the stunted look of post-communist youth who never enjoyed the advantages of free-market capitalism; they're denied its glamorous, sexy patina. When engaging in sex in the fields or a barn, their resemblance to farm animals lowers them to dumb instinct, not Hollywood/MTV privilege.
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Dylan
- Joined: Tue Nov 02, 2004 9:28 pm
There is some discussion on Twentynine Palms here, so I thought I'd chime in and say that if you're interested in seeing it and it comes on television, the print of Palms currently showing on Sundance is cropped from 2.35 to 1.85, similar to what IFC does to its airings of All About My Mother (actually, the IFC airings of Mother are 1.66, and squeezed from cropped 1.85).
To stay on topic, since I liked Twentynine Palms, I'm rather looking forward to Flandres. The reception here is certainly very promising.
To stay on topic, since I liked Twentynine Palms, I'm rather looking forward to Flandres. The reception here is certainly very promising.
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peerpee
- not perpee
- Joined: Tue Nov 02, 2004 3:41 pm
Bruno Dumont
Dumont and Resnais supported by Ile-de-France
At its fourth and final annual session, the Ile-de-France regional funding body for the film and audiovisual industries will announce 3.99m in funding today.
The list of projects supported includes Bruno Dumont's Hadewijch, which has been granted 300,000. Produced by 3B Productions for 3.4m, including additional support from Arte France Cinéma, the film, whose 46-day shoot will get underway in February, retraces the experiences of Céline, a 25 year-old religious believer who is forced to leave a Flanders convent because she is deemed too confused and fanatical in her love of Christ.
Having returned to her studies and her middle-class Parisian family, the romantic, disenchanted and stoical young woman then strikes up a friendship with Khaled, who leads her astray into a life of petty crime. The story is based on the life of the Flemish poet and mystic Hadewijch (first half of 18th century) and will star Julie Sokolowski and Yassine Salime.
At its fourth and final annual session, the Ile-de-France regional funding body for the film and audiovisual industries will announce 3.99m in funding today.
The list of projects supported includes Bruno Dumont's Hadewijch, which has been granted 300,000. Produced by 3B Productions for 3.4m, including additional support from Arte France Cinéma, the film, whose 46-day shoot will get underway in February, retraces the experiences of Céline, a 25 year-old religious believer who is forced to leave a Flanders convent because she is deemed too confused and fanatical in her love of Christ.
Having returned to her studies and her middle-class Parisian family, the romantic, disenchanted and stoical young woman then strikes up a friendship with Khaled, who leads her astray into a life of petty crime. The story is based on the life of the Flemish poet and mystic Hadewijch (first half of 18th century) and will star Julie Sokolowski and Yassine Salime.
