Lilli Carati Una Ragazza Molto

La vie comme ça , the masterpiece of belairiana Brisseau, available on the MKO.

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Bugs Everywhere In House

Blue

un soleil et un ciel comme l'azur
froids
d'une mer Thurs écume

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Ivan Cardoso recounts Without this, Spider

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sal

a rock salt
a fleur de sel -
a must!

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One important event in the television production of the last decade, the only reality show successful history Charlie Sheen in Two and a Half Men .

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I wept and wept

Charlie Sheen in / as / to Abel Ferrara's next film already .

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, from start to finish

by Nick Cave

A friend invited me to attend a screening of a Russian film in Soho. I asked what it was like and he replied: "Well, actually nothing happens, and then someone dies. Come along. You'll love it." My friend was distributing the film in the U.S., so I felt obligated. Attend a Russian film is the kind of things that are done by friends.

I arrived late and sat in the front row at the end of the credits. Ten minutes later, I started crying and continued crying quietly during the 73 minute duration of the film. I cried in movies before, but I can not remember crying so much, without pause, all the time. When the film ended and the lights came on, a woman with eyes bloodshot red, sitting behind me, waved a kleenex in my direction and asked me if I would write something about it for a newspaper.

The film is called Mother and Son and is directed by Alexander Sokurov. Mother and Son explores the last day in the life of a dying mother (Gudrun Geyer) and her adult son (Alexei Anaishnov). It's morning. The mother wants her son to take her for a "walk", which means that he holds her through a series of idyllic landscapes, after he returns to their simple and isolated home, feeds her, and puts her to bed. Then the child moves away from the house take a walk alone and returns to find that she died. All this in 73 minutes.

But what we witnessed during this time is a thing of such beauty, such sadness, to cry for me, was the only appropriate response. Mother and Son is a film about death, about love and about Grace The love between a mother and her son, transcends ordinary love that which is purified by the imminence of death. Death awaits them both with absolute certainty: the mother who will die, the child will be left alone. Time seems to have slowed respectfully to a pace at which the careful movement of love has room for your: no action is rushed, that would simply hasten death. The characters have achieved a state of emotional and spiritual grace. Seem to stray from their stories, strange environment and immune to the world that is beyond their own world. All that exists are gestures of comfort, care and affection. The child's mother brush her hair, cuddle blanket around her, give him something to eat for a bottle teat. The mother responds with caresses and fondling everything that allows her failing strength. In a sense, is a relationship that should not be seen. It is sacred, religious, without the hassle of prurient intrusions analysis of the twentieth century. It is a vision of humanity that it becomes truly transcendent, yet Sokurov does not avoid the tragic nature of death. Death hangs heavy over everything, grieving every gesture, down each action. Even the landscape seems to be in mourning for the mother's imminent demise. Here we see the Passion, shown in tables, occasionally reflecting the story of Christ's passion, not the ailing mother but the son, not of dying but of what is left behind.

The dialogue seems strangely ineffective, as if love and understanding of the protagonists become unnecessary language. When they talk, it seems to lack a real sense their words. They do not comfort or clarify, because everything is said in the knowledge contained in each gesture. In the words psychology there, complications and pain. What is particularly evident in the final conversation, they discuss reasons for death and reasons for living. The dialogue is futile and cruel and only serve to rekindle grief.

Says the mother: "It's so sad. On top you have to go through what I suffered. It's so unfair."

"a little nap, mother," says the son. "I'll be right back."

son leaves home and moves into the exquisite landscape that surrounds it. It is in these long sequences, lengthy, almost immobile, the film reaches the heights of the most breathtaking beauty. Sokurov's landscapes are not burdened by any desire for realism. Her plans are turned into film screens, far closer to the act of painting than to film, flooded with artificial light cloudy. These views chimeric recall the work of German Romantic painters of the early nineteenth century, the Caspar David Friedrich, in which everything is softened by a milky glow. The vastness and mystery of this nature creates a high spirituality regardless of any formula of traditional Christianity. And the care Sokurov implementing these plans worked skillfully finds its echo in the carefully with which his characters treat one another - the devotion to detail, the unhurried tenderness, love.

All this beauty has a pace, a time scale dictated by the encroachment of death. Each piece of action, every gesture - slow, plaintive, important, sacred - allows the viewer the time to fall under its spell and to be seduced by its powerful impulses and very serious. Watching this film, we are forced to confront us with the inevitability of our own mortality and the mortality of others.

Emotions are aroused in us a second so long absent from the cinema. My first

resposta a este filme pela tristeza faith derramar lágrimas das Coisas. E não tem sua única vibração deixado of ECOAR desde então em mim.

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Aqui .

Does Jennifer Love Hewitt Wear Extensions

Breathless. Cine Classics, 22 h 20.

27/03/2000 at 11:16 p.m.

Louis Skorecki

In this film there, Godard never recovered. Returns to be a fatal disease? French cinema was in bad shape when the young man casually, right-wing writer profile sollersien prefer to speak to the movies because the competition was obviously smaller, inject itself a virus which only unsuspected strength. Do not forget that becoming a filmmaker was hardly more attractive, then, that try to film critic. We probably underestimated the importance of lack of inspiration in the young Godard. Becoming a writer, yes, but write what? Everything has already been done, is not it? Do not consider young filmmaker's literary borrowing as a way of cut-up burroughsien. Y rather see something like a huge admission of powerlessness that can be distinguished from the creative impotence of so many of his young contemporaries in the art of confession, specifically: a way of elegance distracted, an art mild obscenity, the invention of the prophetic word processor and the stylesheet. Godard was a dandy what unshaven artist who loved to ask, sensing with years ahead of that creation can also be envisaged as a sinister fashion Warholian.

We talked about disease. The genius of the young Godard, is that he knows immediately condemned. He accepted the coup as an artist to ask, what does he have to lose? He does not know he invented a few decades an attitude of arrogance which has much to do with rock than with literature. And if there was enough to to state precisely that exists? All this does not explain the beauty of stop Breathless, his silences felines, her seduction ladle. Say that actors are there for something. Let's say they come in cinema history with some kind of nudity that results from ignorance of what they do. A few months earlier, in Saint Joan, in Bonjour Tristesse, Jean Seberg Jean Seberg was already. Belmondo did not suspect but he was already Belmondo. The genius of Godard, it's not them saying anything.

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Breathless. Cinéfil cinema, 19h. Apology

07/05/1998 at 2:36

Louis Skorecki

Godard, again and again. What is most touching in its inaugural film, Breathless this groping, that's the beauty standard, the names of these American songs which can not forget the air and running in a loop in their heads. When Martial Solal strums sinuous melody that takes place here in music, other music stands up to him, as if his life depended on it. It is made of elk broken bits of dialogue dissonant feelings read aloud. Here, indeed, we read in the souls as we read in a book. The premise, basically, is a character, it is leafing. He will return to the Situationists, a few years later, to theorize diverted in their comics art speech returned as a ping-pong master talker. Hence their hatred for the young Godard rival unexpected cut-up political and sentimental, true inventor of melodrama organize (hopefully) and contemporary musical (A Woman Is a Woman), deciphering the world such that unexpected it goes. Breathless traverses familiar territory at the outset, a mixture of film noir and experimental film, willingly forgetting bewildered in the contemplation of its two main protagonists, Jean Seberg, borrowed as it is in Otto Preminger (Hello Sadness) in a reckless act of love, and Jean-Paul Belmondo, diverted time of his inclinations theater people. One and one will be marked forever by their barely sketched characters, a nice trick for the lazy viewer shapes them in his image. This is called two icons, a boxer in unemployment and an American crossing, meeting in a window unfinished. A mythology written before our eyes, jerky made fittings and evidence of love ever claimed. Godard never did find that freshness transient allusive art of portraiture, in a light to dwell on what serves as a core player, namely a T-shirt and hat.

Formula Of Dish End Surface Area Of Tank

Otto Preminger

by Jacques Lourcelles

Preminger's films, like all interesting films, show that cinema is a means of expression exclusively narrative. Freedom, invention, for a filmmaker, is not about to doubt this narrative structure or like to shake them, but to be forgotten after you accept. Precisely because it is, as has been said many times, the art of time and art space that cinema can be no freedom vis-à-vis time and vis- towards space. A good story, we have seen, is that which takes best describes the time and space. In this sense, every good story is realistic. Preminger's films are also realistic. Should we repeat here that realism is not an art school among other schools, but that by which movies are movies, not useless pieces of cellulose supposed to express the anguish and the imbalance of an awareness of touch with reality and whose manifestations are so over the hospital's art, this art was it the seventh and especially if the seventh, because it is a law that all the movies that is expressed not by means of realism will automatically appear sickly and inept?

[...]

Most are beginning to notice it, would rather realism, technical and moral, which is still synonymous with Preminger's objectivity, variety, and wit respest discussion. Intelligibility also: and nothing is more important today.

past ten years, in fact, worldwide, title and name of author films have finally been recognized director, and sometimes on the ruins of the star system. But paradoxically the same period has seen these so-called-authors, and those who give themselves through various advertising methods as such, enjoy, enjoy the new title for "speak" certainly, but more often depends on elemental qualities, and essential, photography and sound, also at the expense of clarity and intelligibility of the narrative. So just when the public was more willing to accommodate these authors, outdoing improperly (to impose their personal fantasies) on newly granted powers to them and misinterpreted it, cut it to him, and put they, more or less short term, their art in peril.

This danger is very hour. Faced with this danger, the films of Preminger, free and independent ever did was film, and therefore moral thereby themselves, offer as an antidote to the example of a work whose contact with the growing public does not stop, but instead has stimulated progress . And these advances are all in the same direction: the strict sense of realism.

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letras

with the letters in the soup
write your name -
mother!

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the splendor of truth

by Philippe Demonsablon

The output of a Mizoguchi film, already old in addition, an event may seem a bit thin to justify the publication of the texts that follow . Have not we had several times over the last five years the opportunity to express our admiration for the Japanese director, and when to see it grow, too rarely in our discretion, we will find him a new work? To those of us who could not attend festivals, his films which participated regularly since 1952, a retrospective at the Cinémathèque finally allowed to take the full measure of talent that we knew very large. "Mizoguchi began," we wrote then. In our list of "twelve best films of all time," Tales of the moon wave figure prominently, and the author of these lines did not hesitate to assign them the first.

Mizoguchi begins: at least depends on it, to do so, the willingness of a distributor. Too many of his films are still unpublished, which are too well in France of subtitled copies for several years. If the universality of genius is less than that applied to any contact at all, then we are dealing here with the work of a universal genius. Her voice deserves to find another audience than specialists, and accents that do not concern only the educated public, but simply speak to the man of the highest idea of man.

A panoramic landscape of fields and mountains, the superimposition of a brief sunny lake, and continues on a scenic hamlet, stops in general, a peasant couple busy loading a cart. Would we ever seen of men? The only appearance of this man and this woman occupied the most common gestures is enough to fill us with an emotion that owes nothing to the drama and everything to enlightenment. From the first minute of Tales of the moon vague, so here are two anonymous, two players who may be as supernumeraries, and by instinct we understand that we had previously been known to humans, but not yet seen the man with this intensity.
This force
blinding Mizoguchi which shares the privilege with very few filmmakers reduced to the dimensions of the picturesque as films touted as Paestum, and for the same reasons, relegated to the decorative as famous monuments. What part can indeed claim psychology, when the slightest gesture refers to man through the individual, how much the story or the accident, also coincide closely when the magnitude that is the copy and the precision is the individual? Between the blandness of the novelist who too often does not know that seduce us by his creatures that have the most singular and drought of the moralist, by what they have more general, Mizoguchi takes the high road of the poet, where virtue contemplative alternate going back and forth dialectic based on the sparkle of the singularities of the same type splendor and substance into one another. Each of the acts and events here a universal resonance. When the bands of soldiers creep through the village, we see not only a group of farmers in the grip of war, nor an instructive example of the war, but a shortcut in which the invention is surprising, the figure even all wars. The motions of work, tenderness, fear and vanity, modesty and nobility, the languor and easing up before us the figure of human destiny. Only palates might happen baffled, meeting with themselves when they wanted a change of scenery. Thus

Mizoguchi speaks of the most simple and most familiar: life, death too, because it is no art to live where does the thought of death. And it has the delicacy to speak familiarly, without pomp and without primer. This is the most natural way he brought us things like themselves: the secret of the masters found books we read in each frame of his films and this is not the slightest reason why Tales of the moon wave remind the Odyssey. In both masterpiece, a proud civilization refinement lingers note the polished surface, the texture of a fabric, the taste of a drink - but we always refer to the man. Whatever the luxury of the decor or the intensity of the drama, the breath comes to tell the air temperature or the timbre of her voice, its density.

But there is more work to man's height is the ideal man whose these Tales draw the figure, the eternal scheme of the route. This used to discover a life lifestyle, how many fables have they not invited to follow the path, the details matter less than the term, since it is only through the appearances and full of purpose and reason, etiquette according to the truth. So is the potter shaping the same vessel to bring it to greater perfection, and Mizoguchi himself repeating the same story, modestly ("this is just a distraction, but they are my children and I love them "), but the only story that matters, the one that also called Murnau and Rossellini, man reaching acquiescence and through him to the unit. Modestly than herself Empress Yang Kwei Fei goes to his execution, that they are conducted, serene, lovers celebrated by Chikamatsu, an old beggar with a broken voice sings from the palace of his son, all this does he not self and why add the emotion that the protagonists have their study to master? "Miyagi, why are you dead? "Asked the potter less fortunate Odysseus after his long journey. But the question is in itself the answer, if death is a passage: here the red clay of marine Cemetery is the same one that shapes the potter, the farmers that till the mid- tombs ...

Acquiescence reconciliation in all of Mizoguchi's work, especially in this film that are sum- Tales of the moon wave talks about unity. Yes, the accumulation of their adventures take us to the characters of interest other than compassion. And if there's fable, even profuse, not to the absurd repetition of perpetual motion that guides our thoughts. The movement tends to its own extinction, arranged around the idea of a balance that can escape the movement instead being based on it: focus on that which remains is also out of the Hell dialectic. And certainly, it is tempting discern a reflection of the Greek philosophers in what is clearly the imprint of thought boudhique; Parmenides is this staged or rather the sermon at Benares? So what if the staging ready for either a new luster: the thought feeds the artist, but the feeling is mutual. If Bergman's films are primarily meditation on man and those of Preminger's foremost meditation on the staging, the films of Mizoguchi are meditation on man, posed in terms of staging. What is man? But also, what is staging? Here two questions arise if we meet as inextricably linked one is to respond to another. Not a plan of Tales of the moon wave belies the beauty of the opening is not less than the ambition that it reads: to achieve by more concerted movements to erase the device by splendor of truth. For this refined art does not refine its own prestige, thus avoiding the pitfalls of preciousness rude. He contrasts the number of quality, rhythm harmony. About one defines its research make a note so pure and strong that the slightest change to become expressive. An art, "said Jacques Rivette, modulation.

Philippe DEMONSABLON.

Papers Cinéma du No. 95, May 1959, p. 1-3

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" A giant flare on the horizon, and after a long period of time I heard a distant murmur and heavy, as if the earth had been killed. "

"The ball was so powerful and arrogant as Jupiter. Slowly and quietly crept up ... And merging the thicker layers of clouds continued to rise and grow. It seemed to suck all the dirt on them. The show was fantastic, unreal, supernatural. "

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"the world

also yours and you're welcome"

My White Wife Want To Have A Black Baby

interiores exteriores

writes,
angry or sweetness





speaks hoarsely

a thousand years



sings, though in silence

interior

Lumps On Your Bum Hole

J'ai l'impression

that, de plus en plus, ma recherche dans ce sens s'oriente, et je revendique modernity of the thing. A film where the camera is invisible can be a modern cinema. What I would do is a film camera absolutely invisible. can always make the camera less visible. There is work (yet) in this area.

Moderne is also a word a bit hackneyed. Do not try to be modern, it is so we deserve it. And do not be afraid either to not be modern. He did not let that become an obsession.

The old and the new - Eric Rohmer Entrevistado por Jean-Claude Biette, Jacques Bontemps e Jean-Louis Comolli, Cahiers du Cinema No. 172, novembro 1965

Japanese Student Kissing

Their remarks put realism on its true ground. Realism does not have to serve or to illustrate some sordid and monotonous design of reality, nor indeed any other conception of reality. His case is the natural, common sense (the whole story to be told well, needs a natural storyteller and a lot of sense), and it is mainly up to the invisibility of the means used to depict, through history, reality. It is sometimes said, without thinking, that realism in the cinema bar the road to the invention. Nothing more wrong: far from bar his way, realism seeks and welcomes any inventions that may detract a little more technical nature of the film, and its inevitable fragmentation in favor of history in favor of reality and continuity of history. We can not emphasize enough.

Lourcelles Jacques, Allan Dwan , Presence Film No. 22-23, outono 1966, p. 10

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Jacob Delafon Belvoye Adress

is an opinion shared by some currently being expressed and that cinema needs, More than ever, classicism. I think that opinion a bit inaccurate: the film has no need for classical, well understood, it is just that - classic. Maybe we could spend our remaining minutes to examine some elements of this classic on which it happens that way-cons are committed.

No cinema, no film that is worth, not realism. What is realism? Two definitions, or rather two points of Wilde and Ruskin on painting, say pretty well what to say. The word realism probably would have made them scream, the thing they were familiar. Ruskin first: "The only good painting is to paint a rosy cheeked children. And Wilde ("Origins of historical criticism"): "We should be able to say a picture is not that well painted but it is not painted. These sentences may be surprised by their authors, often taken for decadent artists for artists, whatever else? They show this in any case, that Wilde, Ruskin and others with them, who were constantly questions the nature and purposes of art, it posed little about its means. In fact, they were simple minds - and well done. What was complicated was the struggles, controversies they had to wage against the meanness and the conformism of the times they and complicated, they were not.

Lourcelles Jacques, Allan Dwan , Presence Film No. 22-23, outono 1966, p. 9-10

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Caralho

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Hawks / Vidor

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By the way, director's cut of Miami Vice seen this weekend. Impressive. It states very accurately, both for minor changes like the more surprising as the sight of Mann, at least in this film, tends more to the novel for the painting, and more for Shakespeare than for Hopper.

Legge 20 Maggio 1970, N. 300.

Michael Mann intends to bring to the screen a film biography of Capa.

swear that I heard this for 23 minutes ago - namely, four hours and nineteen minutes after the previous post.

(hopefully leave something better than Public Enemies )

Block Dot On Dog Skin

days or nights

jours jours gris lents

jours blancs
or plutôt nuits
nights slow nights
gray

sleepless nights or days rather slow day

day bis
white days or rather nights

Desert Eagle Tiger Stripes Cost

Here

just under the snow that falls

(Issa)

falling snow on both of us - are you

the same this year?

(Basho)

Come
'll see snow
to bury us!

(Basho)

Blue Print Of A Salon

snow plains -

absolute silence and the click of the camera


silent -
inscribed on the edge of the waves or drops
rolling?

Snowmobile Decals Kit

snow plain

Year