Post by Capo on Aug 4, 2007 23:34:07 GMT
Détective
Jean-Luc Godard 1985 France
The lives of several people intertwine in a Parisian hotel, the house detective, a boxing promoter, an assassin and his adulterous wife among them.
What appears to be clumsy is deceptive: Godard films scenes as if the camera was simply set up to face anywhere (it opens with an unflinching shot from a surveillance cam), with characters sometimes filling the frame but also often walking out of it, so that they become a sort of dispensable prop caught in an otherwise void space; the result is fragmented, difficult and claustrophobic. Visual gags are tremendous, including the boxer who is constantly shadow-sparring in the background of shots - even when on a bed with a beautiful, naked woman, all he can do is gently punch her loose breasts as if they were punch bags.
Jean-Luc Godard 1985 France
The lives of several people intertwine in a Parisian hotel, the house detective, a boxing promoter, an assassin and his adulterous wife among them.
What appears to be clumsy is deceptive: Godard films scenes as if the camera was simply set up to face anywhere (it opens with an unflinching shot from a surveillance cam), with characters sometimes filling the frame but also often walking out of it, so that they become a sort of dispensable prop caught in an otherwise void space; the result is fragmented, difficult and claustrophobic. Visual gags are tremendous, including the boxer who is constantly shadow-sparring in the background of shots - even when on a bed with a beautiful, naked woman, all he can do is gently punch her loose breasts as if they were punch bags.