This one? http://deathbecomesherr.tumblr.com/post ... -left-bankrepeat wrote:As far as I understand, it's an advertisement for a Paris art gallery of that name.....
Leos Carax
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- Joined: Thu Jul 03, 2008 9:34 pm
- Location: Scotland
Re: Leos Carax
- knives
- Joined: Sat Sep 06, 2008 6:49 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Is his early short Strangulation Blues available anywhere?
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- Joined: Sun Apr 03, 2011 4:42 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Two years later...Strangulation Blues, no subtitles. https://vimeo.com/285100214
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Strangulation Blues is a phenomenal debut, with all the eclectic influence-repurposing that would define Carax's features to come. The film starts out as a nouvelle vague homage framed with a formalist steadiness of earlier masters, and some Bresson and his cohort thrown in for good measure, before taking abrupt editing departures to emulate Godard's editing tricks a la music-cuts and non-diegetic/diegetic voiceover ping-pong. These last so briefly before manifesting into something new (as opposed to Carax's more sustained tribute to Godard in Sans Titre) that the fluidity of passionate eccentricities become his own unique beast entirely.
At a certain point, the voiceover becomes so fast, scattered and prophetic that the film felt ready to implode in the darkness of image, mimicking a chaotic swarm of thoughts running through one's mind laying awake in bed in the middle of the night. The obsessive-compulsive preoccupations of how to make love tangible in physical attainment or speech fly at us so fast with surrealistic energy my head wanted to spin around. The finale proves Carax's own thesis that love is what makes us run, allegorically ending the picture after an ironic misperception of fatalism.
What makes this film special is that within that heart-stopping rant isn't pessimism or the kind of existential struggle that is familiar in cinema. I never got the sense that Carax was disturbed by an inability to define or materialize his comprehension of love, outside of recognizing that being troubled is a symptom of this natural experience. Instead he exudes more of a bursting concentrated intensity of devotion to the exploration of man's plights for love. Even in the psychological conflict of cognitive-overload there was a lighthearted nouvelle vague emotional high that persisted and made the film feel alive and committed to perseverance, at least until the final frame burns out, which in this case is itself an indicator of explosive affection that cannot exist within the confines of the medium.
At a certain point, the voiceover becomes so fast, scattered and prophetic that the film felt ready to implode in the darkness of image, mimicking a chaotic swarm of thoughts running through one's mind laying awake in bed in the middle of the night. The obsessive-compulsive preoccupations of how to make love tangible in physical attainment or speech fly at us so fast with surrealistic energy my head wanted to spin around. The finale proves Carax's own thesis that love is what makes us run, allegorically ending the picture after an ironic misperception of fatalism.
What makes this film special is that within that heart-stopping rant isn't pessimism or the kind of existential struggle that is familiar in cinema. I never got the sense that Carax was disturbed by an inability to define or materialize his comprehension of love, outside of recognizing that being troubled is a symptom of this natural experience. Instead he exudes more of a bursting concentrated intensity of devotion to the exploration of man's plights for love. Even in the psychological conflict of cognitive-overload there was a lighthearted nouvelle vague emotional high that persisted and made the film feel alive and committed to perseverance, at least until the final frame burns out, which in this case is itself an indicator of explosive affection that cannot exist within the confines of the medium.
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Pola X is the only Carax I was unfamiliar with and I was unsurprisingly enraptured by it. Watching these last two unseen Carax has prompted me to plan a revisit of his first three features. Mauvais Sang has always been my favorite, but I adore all of them and I'm excited to see how a retrospective affects my initial impressions so many years later. Also, here's hoping his new musical is a return to the theme of love (even if you could easily argue that Holy Motors was about the love of the possibilities of filmmaking, and performance).
Carax is one of the best filmmakers out there at expressing love itself as a living, breathing, unconstrained organism. While someone like Bogdanovich pours his heart out to create complexly constructed works with uncomplicated expression, Carax uses a complex set of diverse expressive tools in genre, style, dynamics, and layered degrees of tangibility (dance, physical obstacles, and here in Pola X there is the computer and practice of writing romance novellas!) to exert his passion onto the screen. For both filmmakers (who I realize, in many respects, couldn't be more different) the intricacies orbit around the sun of ‘love’ - but with Carax (who I don't like more, for the record) all technical prowess and stylish implementation are geared at the enigmatic tension of this feeling, filtered through the imperfect spaces of human relationships, rather than coating the milieu with the mood of a sun dream.
Pola X may be a Melville adaption, but the ten drafts are apparent as Carax makes this film entirely of his own brand. Little touches like the foggy mirrors creating both a magical alien space for love to occur and signifying the nebulous nature of love are inspired, and Scott Walker’s variegated score makes for mystical spectacle and jarringly industrial punctures of strain when necessary. The use of sound in general, which is often subtly part of Walker’s score, is used so well that a particular scene with Deneuve on a bike at night is deceptively restrained and conveys brooding Lynchian vibes.
The introduction of the sister, unraveling Pierre’s comprehension of his comfortable schema of his life and family, reminded me of a cryptic ghost story or fable. Pierre is infected by this spell of mysterious destruction of the corporeal, and through connecting with this personified bomb he becomes entranced, like a fairy tale character following an alluring orb. This film uses every lighting trick and tonal shift to aid the pulsing narrative in suggesting how exciting it can be when our lives are shattered by an unfathomable intrusion of attraction. Pierre has a routine, and when he breaks a visit to his fiancé it seems impossible to understand by his mother; revealing the truth about his world: That all the freedom in motorcycle rides, money, property, creative writing, and stressless lifestyle, was in illusion; trapping him in a blind cycle of diluted intimacy in complacency. Pierre’s true awakening comes from the forced shake that life can be more, and once he sees this, he cannot stop chasing this new crown of meaning. Simultaneously, his self-centered drives mask our ability to judge whether the love he has for himself or the love he has for another is what propels his departure into adventure.
How can you possibly build love up any higher? It’s scary, intoxicating, and worth sacrificing everything for, because once you feel it, there’s no escape except through it. What stimulates me about this film is that Carax seems to be interested in a dual reading. Is this love pure in drawing us to it in spite of consequence; is the conflict that occurs as a result of its existence a spiritual awakening? Or… is love a vessel of escape, a sobering reminder of where we are at, what we don’t have, where we are dissatisfied, and thus a poisonous apple from Eden that unveils credence for our self-gratifications? Pierre even says he has been waiting for something to grant him reprieve from his utopian apathy of formula. His egotism manifests as solipsism, so while our objectivity is compromised, so is his subjectivity. This alone reflects love’s hold on people- its murkiness inexpressible through our normal modes of communication, hence an interview that leaves our confident egoist speechless.
I like to believe it’s both a deadly, euphoric virus without an antidote, and one that is so enigmatic and uncontrollable that the complex psychology and consequential dysregulation of internal and external systems are justified. Pierre could also be a stand-in for Carax (even more self-referential than usual) as a man bursting with passion, unable to properly express himself (liberate from banal structure, make a feature film) for too long, finally unleashed and exerting impetuous pronouncements of artistry. I don’t know. Love is crazy.
Carax is one of the best filmmakers out there at expressing love itself as a living, breathing, unconstrained organism. While someone like Bogdanovich pours his heart out to create complexly constructed works with uncomplicated expression, Carax uses a complex set of diverse expressive tools in genre, style, dynamics, and layered degrees of tangibility (dance, physical obstacles, and here in Pola X there is the computer and practice of writing romance novellas!) to exert his passion onto the screen. For both filmmakers (who I realize, in many respects, couldn't be more different) the intricacies orbit around the sun of ‘love’ - but with Carax (who I don't like more, for the record) all technical prowess and stylish implementation are geared at the enigmatic tension of this feeling, filtered through the imperfect spaces of human relationships, rather than coating the milieu with the mood of a sun dream.
Pola X may be a Melville adaption, but the ten drafts are apparent as Carax makes this film entirely of his own brand. Little touches like the foggy mirrors creating both a magical alien space for love to occur and signifying the nebulous nature of love are inspired, and Scott Walker’s variegated score makes for mystical spectacle and jarringly industrial punctures of strain when necessary. The use of sound in general, which is often subtly part of Walker’s score, is used so well that a particular scene with Deneuve on a bike at night is deceptively restrained and conveys brooding Lynchian vibes.
The introduction of the sister, unraveling Pierre’s comprehension of his comfortable schema of his life and family, reminded me of a cryptic ghost story or fable. Pierre is infected by this spell of mysterious destruction of the corporeal, and through connecting with this personified bomb he becomes entranced, like a fairy tale character following an alluring orb. This film uses every lighting trick and tonal shift to aid the pulsing narrative in suggesting how exciting it can be when our lives are shattered by an unfathomable intrusion of attraction. Pierre has a routine, and when he breaks a visit to his fiancé it seems impossible to understand by his mother; revealing the truth about his world: That all the freedom in motorcycle rides, money, property, creative writing, and stressless lifestyle, was in illusion; trapping him in a blind cycle of diluted intimacy in complacency. Pierre’s true awakening comes from the forced shake that life can be more, and once he sees this, he cannot stop chasing this new crown of meaning. Simultaneously, his self-centered drives mask our ability to judge whether the love he has for himself or the love he has for another is what propels his departure into adventure.
How can you possibly build love up any higher? It’s scary, intoxicating, and worth sacrificing everything for, because once you feel it, there’s no escape except through it. What stimulates me about this film is that Carax seems to be interested in a dual reading. Is this love pure in drawing us to it in spite of consequence; is the conflict that occurs as a result of its existence a spiritual awakening? Or… is love a vessel of escape, a sobering reminder of where we are at, what we don’t have, where we are dissatisfied, and thus a poisonous apple from Eden that unveils credence for our self-gratifications? Pierre even says he has been waiting for something to grant him reprieve from his utopian apathy of formula. His egotism manifests as solipsism, so while our objectivity is compromised, so is his subjectivity. This alone reflects love’s hold on people- its murkiness inexpressible through our normal modes of communication, hence an interview that leaves our confident egoist speechless.
I like to believe it’s both a deadly, euphoric virus without an antidote, and one that is so enigmatic and uncontrollable that the complex psychology and consequential dysregulation of internal and external systems are justified. Pierre could also be a stand-in for Carax (even more self-referential than usual) as a man bursting with passion, unable to properly express himself (liberate from banal structure, make a feature film) for too long, finally unleashed and exerting impetuous pronouncements of artistry. I don’t know. Love is crazy.
- NABOB OF NOWHERE
- Joined: Thu Sep 01, 2005 12:30 pm
- Location: Brandywine River
Re: Leos Carax
Re Strangulation blues -Yes this has all the hallmarks of Godard stamped over it blatantly evoking Seberg in Breathless with the striped top, hair style and even her saying "C'est dégueulasse" There is also the voice-over with it's Ciné-maniaque references like 'moteur' when he starts the car which is synonymous with 'turn over' for the film camera and 'coupé' when the car lights are dimmed at the close of the film. Where Carax begins to forge his own trademarks in the films to come is in the imagination's struggle to determine between the actual and the dream state. Indeed here the act of strangulation hovers in a netherworld of uncertainty. Paris itself is depicted during a "Parisian night not in the slightest American" where the city of light is bathed in darkness and abandoned save for the essential action as in Alphaville. However Carax is equally obsessed with silent cinema anId I would urge anyone wanting to contextualise his output to view as a prologue Ménilmontant by Kirsanoff.
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Well said, yes the silents and early sound influences were what I was referring to in keeping this from that nouvelle vague imitation. The homages are equally apparent in technique at least.
Also, regarding Pola X, has there ever been a more intense metaphor for the contrasting destructive and liberating powers of love than the opening footage of warfare in that film’s context? Thinking back, after a career of exploring the obsession and a long hiatus, it seems inevitable that Carax could only have built to that grand a gesture of assertive ferocity on the subject.
Also, regarding Pola X, has there ever been a more intense metaphor for the contrasting destructive and liberating powers of love than the opening footage of warfare in that film’s context? Thinking back, after a career of exploring the obsession and a long hiatus, it seems inevitable that Carax could only have built to that grand a gesture of assertive ferocity on the subject.
- whaleallright
- Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2005 12:56 am
Re: Leos Carax
I first saw Pola X from the balcony of the Brattle in Boston on a double bill with Mauvais sang attended by maybe five people. The opening was overwhelming, and it hooked me immediately. I had previously only seen Les amants which had been belatedly released a year or two before IIRC. I adored that one, and Pola X was at the precise nexus of numerous of my tastes: Carax, Melville, Scott Walker, Smog, Sonic Youth.... I've revisited it several times (and the soundtrack even more often) and each time I expect to dislike it (as is often the case with films I saw in my impressionable early 20s) but each time I end up swept up in pretty much every moment, even the patently ridiculous ones.
Still waiting for a decent video copy of not just Pola X but the much longer TV version of the film, with the original title Pierre ou les ambiguïtés, that played on Arte once upon a time and has been essentially missing since (with the exception of one or two Cinémathèque screenings).
Talk about a film maudit—aside from making almost no money, having a critical reception far below what it deserved, and not being treated well in the video era, both of the film's main stars died tragically young.
edited to fix typo
Still waiting for a decent video copy of not just Pola X but the much longer TV version of the film, with the original title Pierre ou les ambiguïtés, that played on Arte once upon a time and has been essentially missing since (with the exception of one or two Cinémathèque screenings).
Talk about a film maudit—aside from making almost no money, having a critical reception far below what it deserved, and not being treated well in the video era, both of the film's main stars died tragically young.
edited to fix typo
Last edited by whaleallright on Sun May 24, 2020 7:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
A rip of the longer TV cut isn’t even on backchannels, nor the 134-minute original cut. I’d love to see it restored to even that slightly longer original form.
Also, God bless the Brattle. The balcony, especially. Some of my earliest memories are watching their Daffy Duck marathons and The Producers in the mid-90s from that spot, and I still go regularly to this day (well, more like pre-March..)
Also, God bless the Brattle. The balcony, especially. Some of my earliest memories are watching their Daffy Duck marathons and The Producers in the mid-90s from that spot, and I still go regularly to this day (well, more like pre-March..)
- whaleallright
- Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2005 12:56 am
Re: Leos Carax
there are VHS tapes of the TV version in one or two German university libraries, but good luck getting copies.
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Boy Meets Girl
In his first feature, Carax takes the nouvelle vague spirit and mixes it with older filmmaking techniques to facilitate a more emotional and less intellectual experience. Carax repurposes these methods to unlock a buried energy distilled by modern cinema. The nouvelle vague influences are in that recontextualization, though the setup of the shots are rooted in films by Renoir, Vigo, Dreyer, etc. The temperament is new age disillusionment, characters with baselines of emotional dysregulation that exist in a world of promises and evidence of love.
Carax takes Godard’s wild manipulations of the medium’s history and channels his own unique vibe with them. This is a film deeply in love with its characters because it knows them, just as it knows the milieu, a dreamy skewed perspective on our reality. A lot has been said about Carax being in love with his muses, but he also loves Lavant, a surrogate for himself, who can realise the acts and emotions that Carax cannot while also remaining tied to familiar constraints. The environment of this film is simultaneously bursting with opportunities for passion and a cold vacuum that renders them invisible. The camera takes the position of both sides- there are moments where our objectivity is clouded so as to feel detached, and yet even then we can join in the isolation or pain of whoever is gracing us in the frame.
However in atypical fashion, I found that whenever Lavant or Perrier were off screen I was also thinking about them, which insinuates how linked they are. This is especially true in the first section when we are privy to the information that there exists a potential soul mate for the other, while the characters don’t - a wonderful exhibition of the possibilities of life often unavailable to us when we’re in a bout of depression and self-pity. I love how Carax conveys the characters daydreaming with music and images superimposed briefly on corners of the screen, and even a reverse-Spike Lee ‘move without walking’ shot from behind, as Lavant chases Perrier without even realizing it (until he does). It's a spiritual experience- the kind one has listening to Bowie, walking through the streets at night with eyes closed. The energy warms both even with a door between them, at the party when she’s cutting and he’s just behind- they both stop to feel the other’s presence.
Their first real interaction is full of all the idiosyncrasies that occur normally, musing about enigmas (falling in love, discussing dreams, wondering what kind of tea is it in one of the film's most beautiful lines, “the label’s missing- it could be anything”) and binding to reality with army service, professions, suicide, and tangible expressions of love through sharing details of history. The authenticity and trust they bring to the conversation evokes both desperation and uninhibited participation. The beauty of being broken is that you’ve already surrendered and can be your true self around another, especially when you meet a partner starved of life too. Two cracked mirrors can still see themselves in another.
The use of expressionist lighting to convey emotion is masterful, with darkness falling upon the lovers in a moment of silence, or the screen cutting to a black spot as Lavant remembers the night his ex left, exemplifying an intrusive thought or brief piercing blackout of emotional pain. These come in a late-stage pinball game too when Lavant is elated, blood flowing, winning at a tangible game. It's hard to tell what's more exciting- winning, or being able to focus on a simple, tangible process, in a world that's anything but.
Carax may refuse us a happy ending but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe that love is possible, he just believes that it’s also not-possible. Like Strangulation Blues, Carax dictates his habit of getting caught up in his own solipsism, as well as the breaths where he can bask in the beauty of his world, to create an amalgamation of experience. I think he believes that even if our defective characteristics and personal histories will erupt and destroy part of what they create, these permanent scars don’t need to equate to permanent pain. After all, this is his first feature film- he has a lot more living to do, and he knows it. The shot of the couple in the window looking at the stars is hopeful, before cutting back to the dream of corporeal death.
I’m curious how others read the ending.
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Les amants du Pont-Neuf
By this point Carax’s characters have lived too much life to candidly express themselves like Boy Meets Girl. They’ve retreated into alcohol and isolation, the vagabond life of solitude. Binoche creates art alone, to keep herself going. Lavant engages in performance art dangerously in high risk thrill-act that also mirrors as self-destruction. Neither seems to have much hope left in them, and their connection is slow-brewing, absent of the usual magic, drowning in an atmosphere of disillusionment polluting this fairy tale narrative. The physical injuries that accumulate, the dirty conditions of the spaces they occupy, and the loneliness in the DNA of urban streets and transportation modalities, all contribute to swallowing the spirit of any dreams that threaten to externalize themselves into this milieu.
That is, until the tones change, in gradual progressions that creep up on us like the surprising turns our own lives take without our awareness until we wake up in a new state of mind, with unfamiliar emotional lability, and under circumstances only real in our fantasies.
Always preoccupied with impermanence, memory, and expectations in relationships defining experience, it’s fitting that Carax would focus his story on characters hanging onto their memories, unable to escape them yet cherishing them too. This couple each asserts agency without any catharsis; spinning into turmoil due to the nature of expectations from other people, which only spawn dysphoria. Is it possible to be relieved of these expectations, the shackles that destroy our minds and hearts?
We can add this to the great films about addiction, and the mental health issues that often precede the condition, but only superficially. The traditional beats of disease progression don't matter, for the exploration of the sources of self-medication are enough; most importantly the unbearable emotional bottoms that become antecedents for isolation and intentional destruction. When they aren’t avoiding life’s pains through pills, needles, and booze, they are through thieving and riding the highs of adrenaline, always on the move. The wild actions these characters make as they break from the world into their own is a beautiful kind of sadness, and indicative of problems more universal than being simply an alcoholic, lovesick, or lonely.
This film is special because Carax blends these feelings perfectly: he knows that there is euphoric liberation in removing oneself from the rules and social mores of society, and yet this is a temporary fix to a deep-rooted problem. The middle scenes of them embarking on this retreat together is a strangely sour flavor of sublime, as even these scenes are far cries from the fantastical moments in Carax’s first two features. They’re shot with a brand of objective insight that won’t allow compete inebriation. Love becomes a drug, one chased but still an elusive ‘idea’ that a character, in so many words, declares cannot exist in this barren vacuum of lost souls. The expectations and natural separation of wills preventing a union even disrupt the usually blissful Bowie montage from forging a harmonious bond. We are granted a lingering shot of Lavant’s feet turned away from Binoche as she watches the dance party, and then more obviously he sits burdened alone while sitting next to Binoche letting loose and cheering on a ferris wheel, trapped in his own mind even when he's with the object of his affections.
As he ages, Carax’s own duality of brutal truths and escapist romantic compositions become entangled, numbing his own style with the weight of lived experience. So we get his usual amalgamation of tones, only from a man now too wise to be capable of seeing the world in distinct states. The result is still magic, but dense and relentlessly emotional, without reprieve from one extreme through the dose of the other. The layered moods become a dream injected with inexorable sobriety, like a painter who over time uses the same brush contaminating his colors, mixing his joyous yellow and depressing brown together. But at least he’s painting, and the painting is beautiful.
The ending capitalizes on Carax's own obsession with repetitive emotional choices, as a couple who disrupted decide to rejoice and try again in new contexts. The definition of insanity, some say, to do the same thing over and over and expect different results- but expectations themselves are poison, aren't they? And what is life if we just give up? Is it better to take a risk towards insanity, in a twisted version of optimism? Is Lavant's final act his first authentic demonstration of asserting his agency with Binoche and expressing his love in a direct manner? Is the allegory of leaving the safety of land, only this time sober and (somewhat) stable, hopeful that this kind of departure can happen honestly between two people unified? The penultimate shot of them is a call-back to The Graduate but with two more serene and self-actualized people, as we see playfully engage in more tempered thrills on the edge of the ship, connected and both finally smiling together. The addictions and problems brewing below the surface are not cured, and who knows where these characters would be if not together, but it hardly matters. Carax isn't here to feed us a lie of how to fix our problems. Instead, he brings us through the ringer, validating our pain, only to come out sustaining his belief in love- because, well, what else is he going to believe in?
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Mauvais Sang
What better way to demonstrate the wild power of love than to externalize it into a sci-fi plot and boldly exaggerated visuals? Lavant and Delpy emerging from the woods, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, mark the screen with a cool vigilance in emotional exhibition. They’re so alone, separated, staring forward in isolation, and yet also joined in an impermanent bond of souls physically connecting and affecting one another. The center of the narrative where Lavant tries to connect with Binoche, facing her with dedicated body language, is no less isolating, or beautiful.
In his middle film, Carax is so thirsty for romance that he cannot help but display a confidence that is cautiously optimistic. He uses many genres, notably a thriller format, to accentuate the vibrancy of life in love, of chasing dreams while allowing life to run its course, placing his characters in circumstances that breed opportunities. His characters are youthful with enough sense to notice these details and follow them, but not yet traumatized by life’s failures to the point of reacting with flinching hesitation, or recognizing important information. Piccoli, however, is too proud and “wise” to publicly declare his love to Binoche. Is his refusal to bear emotions the kind of wisdom Carax has experienced tastes of and wants no part of? Is this kind of apathy his greatest fear?
Binoche, on the other hand, demands it and has a condition where she cannot stop crying. How wonderful this is, Carax seems to believe. Lavant can bear his soul without words, but he uses them to translate his feelings and dreams when appropriate, which is the case as he falls deeper in love and escalates his verbal means of assertion. This film is flowing with style, using technique to convey the messy messages pouring nonsensically from these characters’ minds and hearts, where only the uninhibited power of expression carries any moral weight.
Carax isn’t naive. He knows that there is an immaturity and danger to the chasing of dreams in reality, when contingent on the inherently-untrustworthy experience of another, but he chooses to dive head first into a sea of emotional phantasmagoria anyways. Only in the movies can he burn his life to the ground and start anew with the same identity, to liberate oneself of all fear, without sacrificing the pain necessary to feel joy. Love is the riskiest emotion to bet on, but it’s worth it- even in spite of, or perhaps because of, the suffering.
The nouvelle vague influences really come alive in the second half, long after the deep colors have burned themselves into Carax’s reality. Lavant and Binoche begin to playfully explore one another through eccentric communication patterns, like the shaving cream fight, to match the experimental technique. When these moments become briefly unhinged, the film postures at Godard, but Carax maintains his unique fingerprints that resist his film floating to a place too intellectual or outside of his somber solipsism that resembles reality more than is comfortable to admit. I’ve always felt Godard to be an emotional filmmaker, and Carax capitalizes on the evocative luminosity of (one of) his idol funneled into his own perspective (“Why murder? That’s for your whole life.” “I think that’s why.”). The book analogy is great because it assumes that Lavant is living an extreme life of passion, weaponizing expression to face life with unparalleled agency. Does Carax also think- like Lavant- that the sentences that destroy people are best, or that this path is a selfish one doomed to burnout fast? He clearly cares enough about the question to ask it, but is there a clear answer to motivate change?
Binoche professes how enigmatic love is perfect, for if this love became too tangible or too detached, it would end. She says that fear (not pain) is the death of love, and must be cured to let that enigmatic love get the attention it needs to thrive. This seems to summarize Carax’s ethos, and Lavant’s sudden physical pain transforming into profound uncontainable ecstasy triggered by Bowie is the kind of enigma that Carax brands as the meaning of life.
Lavant comes clean in the end to announce that he’s dissatisfied, having finally figured life out only to be robbed in living a life of half-measures. Then he says that he assumed he would keep on learning, growing, changing forever. I imagine Carax, who cannot make a film that's not deeply personal and clearly models Lavant on himself, feels this way. He strikes me as a guy who is one step away from throwing in the towel and declare his life hopeless, but also consciously aware that more life and perspective-alterations are in store. Carax lives on the edge, but he wants to stress the punk-outcast side of his personality to its limits. This may not be Carax's reality, but it's as good a blend of how he sees himself and how he wants to see himself- a character whose dreams and reality merge so that he can therapeutically evaluate the trials and tribulations of love's enigmatic contrasting consequences through art.
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- Joined: Thu Dec 12, 2013 3:07 am
Re: Leos Carax
I wonder how limited that will be, hopefully more cities than you can count on one hand. I've seen all of Carax's movies on the big screen and —this is a cliché but in this case it's even more true than usual— they really ought to be seen that way. I really don't like this situation where films get brief theatrical releases in NY/LA (and maybe Chicago/Bay Area/Boston) in order to get reviewed and then are dumped onto streaming a few weeks— sometimes just days— later. I guess theatrical releases for non-tentpole films have, in a sense, been advertisements for home video for decades now, but they seem to be becoming more and more token, even for films (like this one) with big stars and a lot of anticipation.therewillbeblus wrote: ↑Thu May 20, 2021 8:41 amAnnette will get a limited release in theatres in the U.S. August 6, and drop on Amazon Prime August 20
BTW, regarding the extended TV version of Pola X discussed upthread — that has finally turned up on various backchannels (board rules and perhaps common sense stipulate I shouldn't say which ones), albeit transferred from VHS and without any kind of subs. But it's "out there" now.
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
Thanks for drawing my attention there- I had no idea, great news!pistolwink wrote: ↑Thu May 20, 2021 3:12 pmBTW, regarding the extended TV version of Pola X discussed upthread — that has finally turned up on various backchannels (board rules and perhaps common sense stipulate I shouldn't say which ones), albeit transferred from VHS and without any kind of subs. But it's "out there" now.
- domino harvey
- Dot Com Dom
- Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 2:42 pm
Re: Leos Carax
The subtitles for Pierre, ou les ambiguities AKA the TV Cut of Pola X, have been posted on back channels
- MitchPerrywinkle
- Joined: Thu Sep 16, 2010 1:26 am
Re: Leos Carax
Now, I don't officially condone piracy of any sort. That being said, if anyone just happens to know where one might hypothetically find a copy of the TV version of Pola X, I certainly can't be responsible for following whatever links I might receive in my DMs and maybe finally finish my viewing of Carax's entire filmography.
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- Joined: Fri May 18, 2018 3:07 pm
Re: Leos Carax
MitchPerrywinkle wrote: ↑Mon Apr 11, 2022 8:21 pmNow, I don't officially condone piracy of any sort. That being said, if anyone just happens to know where one might hypothetically find a copy of the TV version of Pola X, I certainly can't be responsible for following whatever links I might receive in my DMs and maybe finally finish my viewing of Carax's entire filmography.
I'd very much appreciate it if someone could hook me up with this as well! Much obliged.
- Rrobynne
- Joined: Sat May 28, 2022 12:12 am
Re: Leos Carax
MitchPerrywinkle wrote: ↑Mon Apr 11, 2022 8:21 pmNow, I don't officially condone piracy of any sort. That being said, if anyone just happens to know where one might hypothetically find a copy of the TV version of Pola X, I certainly can't be responsible for following whatever links I might receive in my DMs and maybe finally finish my viewing of Carax's entire filmography.
:-"
I recently helped put together the first English subs for Pierre following the VHS rip leak last autumn, with the help of an anonymous French user of the website 4chan. I posted about it a few times on the website's Television & Film board but there wasn't much interest. In my opinion it's significantly better than the theatrical cut Pola X particularly in terms of pacing and in lending greater thematic weight to the three women in Pierre's life.
SpoilerShow
Three dream scenes instead of one (technically four if you count the new prologue), depicting Pierre's abjection beneath Lucie's suffocating ocean of love, the distrusting instability of Pierre's image of Marie and their bond (I believe - the Marie stuff is more hazy), and Pierre's passionate attempt at pursuing submission to ecstatic freedom with Isabel makes the "river of blood" sequence less of an anomaly in the film. Pierre and Isabel become amorous a little more gradually, so the sex scene feels more precedented. Most notably, the final shot of the film becomes one of Isabel's body on the tarmac that appears to be composed exactly like the final shot of Annette with the puppet on the ground, a grim parallel given the the latter's dedication to his daughter by the late Golubeva and suggestive thematics. One extra scene quite importantly shows Isabel rejecting Pierre's offer to buy her new clothes, saying she actively doesn't want material possessions - suggesting the weightlessness that attracts Pierre to her and absolving Isabel of some of that damsel-in-distress energy that trope-y interpretations of her character might suggest (her angry reaction to learning of Pierre's lie at the climax says otherwise, and is made only consistent by the inclusion of this earlier scene).
The new subtitles are only for the scenes exclusive to the cut, the rest I just took from the Pola X DVD since I couldn't find anyone to help transcribe the entire 3 hours of spoken French (there appear to be no French subtitles, sucks for the hard of hearing there I guess), though I'm not awfully satisfied by those Pola X subs, bit too generalised in tone and language choices from what I can tell, though they capture the core meaning accurately. The dialogue is supposed to have the camp-y, genre-aware tone of 1970s serial melodramas from what I can tell; withholding of empathy in one instance so the emotive elements burst out of the screen by contrast. God I wish this could get an HD release. I believe it's had at least one screening to an audience in the last 15 years, at an event about the work of Šarūnas Bartas (the Lithuanian director who plays the Maestro in the film). I hope it was a celluloid projection i.e. that there are copies being decent preserved and not rotting in storage like the original cut of Event Horizon so (relatively) soon after completion. I believe Pathé got funding to clean up Pola X sometime in the early '10s around the time of the Holy Motors buzz in case they're ever in a position to release it in HD but I couldn't find any confirmation this also includes the Pierre cut. Some say it's down to distribution rights issues due to the number of companies involved that have completely changed ownership and structure in the interim, but I wouldn't be surprised if Carax struggles to return to such personally tragic material. It'll be a damn shame if it goes much longer without a proper release, it really is his masterwork. Or at least a tie with Mauvais Sang, for me; punishingly honest in a way few directors this side of the former Iron Curtain are or are willing to become. It'd be easy to say his travels in the Balkans during their fracturing changed him, but Carax has always seemed an outsider to his core; the question of whether that, or his chasing escape from just about anything and everything, came first is as unanswerable as it is significant, and is one Depardieu embodies to a perfection that comes all too naturally as he drags his already-doomed leg through the latter quarter of his performance. If nothing else this film would deserve to get a proper release treatment for Carax's capturing of his volatile beauty at its peak alone. A brutally underrated classic in need of Fire Walk With Me levels of reappraisal.
Last edited by Rrobynne on Sat May 28, 2022 1:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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- Joined: Thu Nov 15, 2007 1:02 am
Re: Leos Carax
Some info about Pierre (sorry if it´s been posted already, earlier in this thread):
https://www.telerama.fr/cinema/entretie ... ,83483.php
http://download.pro.arte.tv/archives/fi ... 379750.pdf
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pola_X#Al ... ve_version
https://www.telerama.fr/cinema/entretie ... ,83483.php
http://download.pro.arte.tv/archives/fi ... 379750.pdf
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pola_X#Al ... ve_version
- Rrobynne
- Joined: Sat May 28, 2022 12:12 am
Re: Leos Carax
It appears Pierre will get another rare outing at a French festival this November!
https://www.festival-entrevues.com/en/f ... ambiguites
https://www.festival-entrevues.com/en/f ... ambiguites
- Rrobynne
- Joined: Sat May 28, 2022 12:12 am
Re: Leos Carax
Someone has now re-uploaded my subbed version of Pierre to a ubiquitous video website.
- yoloswegmaster
- Joined: Tue Nov 01, 2016 3:57 pm
- therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: Leos Carax
I like how the article calls this a "self-portrait film" as if that distinguishes it from the bulk of his work, but sign me up!
- petitdelon
- Joined: Fri Oct 02, 2020 9:33 am
Re: Leos Carax
Does anyone know for sure the aspect ratio of Les amants du Pont-Neuf? It's listed as 1.78:1 for an upcoming 35mm screening here. 1.78:1 for a film shot between 1987-1990 is shocking (honestly it'd be surprising for any film, it's a TV widescreen ratio). I would've bought it if it said 1.85:1.
It's strange because they're rarely wrong and the print is from their own archives from the theatrical screenings and the cans are usually labeled with the aspect ratio it's supposed to be shown in.
I was under the impression that it was in 1.66:1 like Boy Meets Girl, Mauvais Sang and Pola X, mostly because the first two, were also shot by Jean-Yves Escoffier.
Carax only moved to 1.85:1 after he started shooting digital and with Caroline Champetier.
The only source I've got right now is Unifrance (which is an organization under the French film institution – CNC) listing it as 1.66:1.
If anyone has something else that's solid to tack on as evidence on before I'll lodge my complaint, I'd be grateful.
Sort of relevant:
It's strange because they're rarely wrong and the print is from their own archives from the theatrical screenings and the cans are usually labeled with the aspect ratio it's supposed to be shown in.
I was under the impression that it was in 1.66:1 like Boy Meets Girl, Mauvais Sang and Pola X, mostly because the first two, were also shot by Jean-Yves Escoffier.
Carax only moved to 1.85:1 after he started shooting digital and with Caroline Champetier.
The only source I've got right now is Unifrance (which is an organization under the French film institution – CNC) listing it as 1.66:1.
If anyone has something else that's solid to tack on as evidence on before I'll lodge my complaint, I'd be grateful.
Sort of relevant:
SpoilerShow