That Most Important Thing: Love

I doubt if I can address this film in my usual style. The best films — as the best emotional experiences, which of course encompasses the best films — are felt viscerally: this dead weight in the bottom of my stomach, this being wracked with chills, this inability to quite just get on with my day. It is actually a simple film, so what is there to write about. Longing, bereavement, miscommunication, terror, lust, and being utterly thrashed to death by love. These characters, deeply inhabited by these actors (and I agree with Tuco, the performances are astonishing; I agree with Romy herself, this is probably her best work), are not content to merely say “I love,” yet find the active verb “to love” counter to mere survival. Georges Delerue has done this to me, too; his score is as haunting as that of Contempt. And while I have a vague fear I’ve already seen the two Zulawskis I’m most apt to love (this and My Nights), I can’t wait to tear into the rest of his filmography.

1 Comment »

This place lacks updates. I hope this means you have given up this ridiculous project.

Comment by Mango — 15 January 2008 @ 15 January 2008

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