Chantal Akerman, the Belgian filmmaker, lives in New York. Filmed images of the City are accompanied by the texts of Chantal Akerman's loving but manipulative mother back home in Brussels. ... See full summary »
Three young women at a hair salon all like the son of the clothing store proprietors across the mall. Although Robby is selfish and shallow, he's appealing to Lili, the salon's manager, ... See full summary »
In a 360° circular panoramic shot the camera slowly pans an entire apartment (or house). When it first passes the bedroom there is nobody there but each time it shows the room again Chantal... See full summary »
Marcel Proust (1871-1922) is on his deathbed. Looking at photographs brings memories of his childhood, his youth, his lovers, and the way the Great War put an end to a stratum of society. ... See full summary »
Oh, God, the other reviewer ain't lyin! This was AWFUL!
I'm currently studying Proust, and so looked forward to this. I figured the other review HAD to be wrong about how bad this was. But they weren't! I love slow, ponderous French movies. But this one absolutely killed me, bludgeoned me with a big fat dull fence post and left me by the side of one of the many long roads I'd watched the actors drive interminably and wordlessly down. I finally had to watch it on fast forward, because NOTHING HAPPENS time and time and time again for minutes at a stretch. I don't envy a director/scriptwriter who takes Proust on, because so much of the richness of his characters and stories is interior. But, God! You've got to at least TRY to convey those depths by something other than static shots of actors doing and saying nothing. Boo. Hiss. Just awful.
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