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Showing posts with label alienation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alienation. Show all posts

Monday, August 12, 2019

On A Dirt Road (contemplative video)


The Unbearable Lightness of Being from Janos Kish on Vimeo.(2018/Janos Kis/Cambodia) 13'18"

There is a cow lounging on the side of a dirt road. Is it a sacred cow? This is not a postcard... the cow is ruminating patiently.  She whips her tail to chase away the flies, and shakes her large black ears. She is alone, abandonned on the side, at a distance in the frame. Not too estranged, not too familiar.

The landscape is planted there for eternity. The road, although losely defined, with patches of grass here and there, is mostly sand, stretching perfectly in the axis of the shot. A symetrical composition only distracted by the excentric position of the cow and a huge tree on the opposite side of the road, as a counterbalance. And behind the cow, a power line with dancing posts that can't seem to keep a straight posture.
The road has no end in sight it seems, as it unrolls up to the horizon, rigth into a perpendicular line of trees, which probably follows a perpendicular road. We can see, from time to time, silhouettes driving the horizon line, through the trees, from the right side to the left side and vice versa.

It's only when the first motorbike, in yellow, drives through the road, at the 3 minutes mark, that we see it slalloming in the background, following a hook on the right, behind a dense bush, then turning to the left again to exit the frame behind a row of trees. Another motorbike, all black, rides the same road at the same moment, but from the back, where we didn't see it coming in, toward us, after crossing the first motorbike.

When the yellow motorbike did its first hook, we notice something moving on the road at this place. There is in fact a second cow that was lounging and merging its grey colour with the sand, like a rock on the road. Now it is standing and moving around, we can definitely see a second cow in the distance, with a whipping tail and long black ears. She is standing right in the axis of the shot, or nearly so, presenting her profile to us. The two cows are a plastic duo. One is close, one is far. One on the left side, one on the axis. One is lounging, one is standing. One is looking at us, one is ignoring us.

This scene is reminiscent of the famous opening of Satantango (1994) where Béla Tarr and Agnes Hranitzky film cattle in an enclosure until the cows move outside in the streets of an abandonned Hungarian village. Tarr and Hranitzky slowly track down the cows as they make their way outside, like if the herd was pulling the camera with its slow locomotion.
But here, Janos Kis chose to keep a static camera (like in most of his short contemplative films), because the cows stay in place and it is the frame that defines the storyline of the shot. The composition is extremely calm and peaceful. Only brievely interrupted by the passage of bikes or trucks, whiches are merely scratching the road surface, like floating on a dirt cloud, dispersed by the wind. The immobile cows dictate a static shot. The animation of the shot comes from the intermittent crossing of vehicules along this road.

The static camera reminds of the work of the Lumière brothers (who shot only short documentaries of a single view by technical constraints, in black and white and silent of course), Andy Warhol (who used extreme long takes of the same view in black and white), James Benning (who films experimental documentaries of static shots of empty landscapes), Niklaus Geyrhalter (who is a German documentarian compiling single takes of various length of places and landscapes)...

My first thought was it must be India. But Janos confirmed me it was located outside of Siem Reap, nearby the world famous Angkor Conservation Park, in Cambodia. It is an ode to this country's peaceful landscape, of a rural back lane, almost abandonned, but still used daily by some lonely riders.

The title refers to Milan Kundera's 1984 Czech book about a handful of adulterous intellectuals living in Prague during the year 1968 when the political liberalization allowed for the Prague Spring, a period of artistic florish and protests. The book was put into film by Philip Kaufman in 1988.
Far from the intellectual romance of this book and film, the title still evokes, out of context, a Buddhist mantra, a Zen koan, which is examplified by the look at this passive cow. This unmoveable cow represents the spiritual detachment of the contemporary world full of attentions and notifications, This dirt road is the antithesis of the speedways of information, back to the roots of humanity in a simplier world, more grounded, closer to nature, more laborious than industrious, in one word pastoral.

*  *  *

A few words from the filmmaker Janos Kis :

"It was early morning, the sky was beautiful when I was driving my car on the dirt road and suddenly realised a cow in a picturesque background. I parked the car nearby but not very close to observe what's happening. I'm not sure how long it took but I realised this was what I was looking for. Everything looked like a painting. My camera equipment was on the backseat. I chose the lens with soft tones, perfect for the occasion. Set up the tripod, camera, microphone and was waiting for the right moment. I never just start rolling if I don't feel the time has come.

Sometimes it takes 5, 10, 15 minutes or more to wait before I start rolling, and at the end : "Did you see the angel going through?" as Lajos Koltai (HSC/ASC Cinematographer) told me once during a directing and cinematography workshop in Budapest. Istvan Szabó (Oscar winning director) used to ask frequently L. Koltai on set after an important shot.

So that day everything was at the right place in the right time. Not only the two cows, but all the motorbikes, the trucks, even the birds and the pagoda music from the distance. I just had to wait for an Angel and cut.

I hardly cut even the beginning or the end of my film's if not necessaries nor do I color correct them. As for all my films, this one is shot on a Pro Canon DSLR camera with the appropiate lenses and I used a Pro Rode shotgun mic.

The most difficult thing is when shooting extreme long takes outdoor the lighting is constantly changing.
My films are shorts but very slow, a kind of Zen films. All the stories have beginning, middle and end within an invisible timeline.
The storyline is written by the life itself. I'm not directing the film in the classical meaning of the word. I'm just a messenger.

The audience must be very much devoted. As the respected director Bela Tarr used to say "They must make their decisions at the first few minutes they leave, or stay and watch the film till the end."


Find more of Janos Kis's short contemplative films on Vimeo and on YouTube.
His blog is JanosKisPhotoAndVideography


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Saturday, August 03, 2019

Sidewalk - Exterior : Night (contemplative video)

Unheimlich (2015/Arthur CARIA/Brazil) 3'31"

One take, one point of view, one subject, one continuous temporality. 
It is difficult at first to figure out what is going on in this seemingly stolen shot from an overlooking window. A God's point of view. The  grainy light is gloomy and crepuscular. It is challenging to make out shapes from shadows, foreground from background, representations from reflections, impressions from illusions... 
The curious high slant at an almost perfect 45° angle composes an eerily deceptive axonometric projection, which can revert inside-out the perspective depending on the viewer's inclination.
Are we looking at a valley or a mountain fold? Is it a precipice or a wall? The shadows disappear on the edge, but is it because the shadows are projected down below at the bottom of the wall or is it a wall standing on the edge hiding the end of the shadows? Cars pass by furtively, with their headlights sweeping the scene from below. However this additional light doesn't help to reconstruct the volumes. And a puddle rests there between the road and the sidewalk like a fortunate mirror, which is completely black unless an automobile drives by reflecting its lights.
The flat night lighting doesn't help much... It takes time to accustom onelsef to the perspective and the geography of such a simple place. It is almost a theatre stage, with two animals.
But what are they? This is not evident at first sight to determine what we are dealing with. They must be dogs! One of those giant dogo Argentino. It is only on second viewing that I could be certain of them being horses, very calm horses, abandonned there for the night.
Two horses on the sidewalk in the night. Why ? Why not ? Maybe these are the questions of this piece.

Are they Turin horses, escaped from a Béla Tarr and Agnès Hranitzky film or a Nietsche biopic. The two of them are standing in place like two statues. Parked there by their elusive owners like a car on a parking lot. Two stallions without their cowboys, outside the saloon. No saddle. No halter. No lead. Yet they await patiently. These lonely horses are incredible. The symbol of freedom they stand for is frustrated by this picture. The surrounding is not the wilderness, nontheless they are arrested (if not attached) in one place, between a road and a wall, as if their savage nature was robbed from them.

The title refers to a 1919 (a century ago!) Freudian concept Das Unheimlich or The Uncanny which describes an experience that is "strangely familiar". Indeed, everything in this picture seems familiar, but nothing falls in place just right. Something is strange about it, and keeps us from looking away. Is it because we imagine them on the verge of falling off a vertical drop to their instant death? Or is it because they seem abandonned by all humanity, left on their own in an indifferent world, for who knows how long more? Is it the perplexed human or the outraged animal in us watching this short scene?

Without a plot, without protagonist, this contemplative video clip, frozen in stasis, is packed with mystery, ambiguous environment, mude offscreen, slow mood and stranded alienation. The components of Contemporary Contemplative Cinema.
What a fluke to capture this instant! What an eye to frame this out of context! What a patience to film it entirely!

Part of a series of "One-Shot-Video-Poems" filmed in 2015 by Arthur Caria. See his website Cinemática Expositiva for more clipoems like this one. Or watch Building here.


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Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Spoiler Territory (An Elephant Sitting Still)


SPOILER TERRITORY




WEI Bu

A 16 years-old student at the worst high-school in town, wakes up to a salvo of insults from his abusive father because he opened a window when stray garbage stinks outside, because he supposedly stole her mom’s coupon… Bu joins his best-friend, LI Kai, who is accused by YU Shuai, the school bully, of stealing his smart phone to confront him. At recess he’s rejected by his crush Ling. After a vehement argument and a violent push from Bu, the bully falls down a flight of stairs and is evacuated to the hospital. Bu is on the run, to escape the authorities and the angry family. He looks for money at his grandma only to find her dead in her sleep. He goes straight to his big borther’s who lives nearby to announce the bad news and gets insulted. Desperate for cash, he fetches his cherished billiard cue at the club, where he almost meet Cheng who’s on the lookout for him. He resorts to sell his cue to his neighbour Jin, after assisting him with the harassment of the owner of his dog’s killer. At the familiar monkeys pavilion of the local zoo, he meets in secret Ling, who refuses to go to Manhzouli with him. Following Ling to a restaurant outside of which he meets Cheng who doesn’t recognize him. Encouraged by Cheng, he writes down a threat letter to his rival : « You’re screwed » and sticks it on the restaurant window. Betrayed and deceived by his best-friend, he roams alone in the city, en route for Manhzouli. At Shuai’s hospital he sees Shuai’s big brother, Cheng. In the street he steals the Jianzi shuttlecock off of a group of elderly he insults copiously, losing all respects for the ancients and the paternal figure, which puts a momentary smile on his face. The sacred taboo is broken because he’s now a criminal. At a deserted riverbank dumpster, he yells his lungs out that this world is full of shit. Unfortunately he buys a fake train ticket to a street dealer who happens to work for Cheng. But Cheng pities him and let him go to Manzhouli.




YU Cheng

A local thug, wakes up in bed next to his best-friend’s wife. His best friend shows up at the door of this apartment he couldn’t afford, to find Cheng hidden in the bedroom. After a long pause in silence, losing both his wife and best friend at once, he’s had enough of this world and proceeds to jump out of the window to his death. Cheng barely budges or flinches. Though he rushes downstairs to witness the dead body laying at the bottom of the building. He blames the wife for the incident in a one-sided argument. He’s then on the phone with his best friend’s mother who is flying over immediately. But he could not pick her up at the airport. The mother is now at her son’s apartment where he committed suicide, and sits a lingering moment with Cheng who puts on a straight face. Cheng meets Bu outside a restaurant without recognizing him, and encourages him to do something about his girlfriend going out with an older man. Cheng meets his ex-girlfriend in a tunnel, where she lets him know that he should give up, because they’re no match. But before that, he took her to a restaurant where the kitchen caught fire. And Cheng took it on himself to save the burnt cook, for the first time caring for somebody else’s life. Cheng catches up with Bu, who bought a fake train ticket from one of his henchmen. Cheng pities him and buys him a ticket to Manzhouli. But Bu’s best friend shows up with his dad’s gun and hurts Cheng in the leg.




WANG Jin


A 60-year-old retiree, wakes up with his small faithful white dog, on the balcony of his own apartment, utilized by his daughter and family, who desperately try to convince him to move to a nursing home. He’s Bu’s neighbour. After an altercation with his daughter, he exits to walk his dog in the streets. There he faces a stray dog, recently lost by its owner. A big white dog who attacks his little dog and kills it. Fortunately the owners posted lost dog notices on the street so he could track them down. At the door of the owner’s apartment he asks for excuses and compensation but he’s received by arrogance and insults. Bu meets him on the river bank where Jin disposed of his dog’s dead body. Bu begs him to buy his cue in order for him to buy himself a ticket to Manzhouli. Down in the street Jin is followed and harassed by the owner in his car. Bu stands his ground and threatens to scratch his car. Jin finally accepts to buy his cue. Former military, he’s not afraid of Cheng henchmen who hold him captive because he now owns Bu’s recognizable cue. With his new cue, he visits the nursing home with all the sickly elderly in a long and sad corridor. He follows his grand-daughter in the street and « kidnap » her to take her to Manzhouli.




HUANG Ling

A lovely 16 years-old teenager (today is her birthday), Bu’s schoolmate, wakes up alone, as her mom passed out on the couch, and there is a leak in the bathroom again. She yells at her derisive mother who yells at her.
Ling turns down a date with Bu in the afternoon because she’s busy. Indeed she is having an affair in secret with the vice principal of her school. But after the incident between Bu and Shuai, she joins him, on the loose, at the monkeys pavilion where he often goes. There she refuses to go to Manzhouli with him where he envisioned to live with her, earning money with his foot juggling skills (Jianzi shuttlecock). She laughs at him and leaves. At the restaurant she meets her adultery lover who bought her a yellow rose and a birthday cake. Bu shows up and disturbs their date with a threat note on the restaurant window. Back at home, she talks to her mother who begs her not to become pregnant. At the hotel, she believes to be happy, treated right by an older man, possibly a father figure missing in her life. Up to the point when her affair becomes a viral Internet scandal. Then, he becomes aggressive and insulting because they’ve been spotted together at a karaoke, thus ruining his school career for ever…
She returns back home where her mom is confronted by the vice principal and his wife. She sneaks out, but soon comes back with a baseball bat to hit the two intruders in front of her mom.
Now she’s on the run as well and joins Bu at the station to reach Manzhouli eventually...




Unrequited love

Love is hard to get. Not to mention tough love from their parents (or son for Jin), the main characters experience unrequited love (except for Jin who is loved to bits by his granddaughter). Cheng is dumped by his girlfriend, and rebounds right away with the wife of his best friend. Bu has a crush on his classmate Ling who disregards him because she has an affair with the school vice principal. But soon she learns that love isn't eternal, especially with an older man who is fine to take her to the karaoke, restaurant and hotel until he's caught red handed. Then love turns sour and he insults her as if she brought that onto him. And Jin is all alone (possibly widower), only living for the attention he gets from his granddaughter who is caught between her parents and her favourite grandpa.




Losing face and honor

The tables turned when Cheng faces his mom and dad, at the door of the hospital room where his baby brother is dying. The thug becomes bullied by his parents who he pays respect to even while being yelled at and insulted. They reproach him not doing enough to avenge the honor of his brother who was defeated, injured and ultimately killed by his schoolmate Bu. Losing face is the ultimate humiliation in China. But respecting elders (especially the family elders) is utmost important. Cheng dislikes his brother, a nobody, and lacks the motivation to pursue his killer as well as he should.
One person though is not ready to lose face, and fights back. It’s the owner of the killer dog. When confronted with the remains of a beloved pet in a plastic bag, he starts off by denying any implication of his dog. Then he blames Jin for hiding his missing dog. Finally he follows Jin down the street in his car to insult him. Bu who wants to obtain money from him, stands as an eye witness of the earlier carnage and confronts the owner. He threatens to scratch his car with a rock three times, and three times the owner dares him before pushing him on the floor with his foot. Three times Bu rises again and fails to touch the car. This small incident is enough to earn him the heart of Jin, who finally accepts the deposit of his pool cue. By being humiliated by the owner, he somehow avenged the honor of Jin.



Death

The certitude of mortality menaces throughout the film. Its apprehension overshadows the mundane lives of brave personalities.The film begins with a traumatic error causing the precipitous suicide, out of passion, of a novel cuckold. Bu’s best friend pretends to put his dad’s stolen gun to his temple, before, by the end of the film, pulls the trigger with the same gun and take his own life off screen as a train sounds off in an epic 20 min plan séquence. Shuai falls down the stairs to his death, turning a heroic act of self defense into a murder Bu will have to live with for the rest of his life. Casual accident turning into a life sentence. Jin’s little dog is killed rabidly by an enormous stray dog for no apparent reason. Bu’s grandmother is found on her deathbed, who died of her natural death, leaving Bu alone, depriving him of a precious ally in the family that hates him.





Follow up : A press review (An Elephant Sitting Still) Third part


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Monday, February 11, 2019

Contrechamp interdit (An Elephant Sitting Still)




The elephant in the room

A man wakes up and murmurs to his lover : « They say there is an elephant in Manhzouli, it sits there all day long and ignores the world. Or maybe it just enjoys sitting there. » The quirky reputation of this elusive pachyderm becomes a symbol of liberation, escapism and flat out defiance for a handful of protagonists living, or surviving, in an indistinct smoggy city of North-East China.
The reason the still elephant fascinates the characters of this film might be because he’s so mysteriously impervious to the world of pain around him. Maybe they all crave to reach this stoic state of mind, to face the overbearing troubles in their lives, like the Elephant-Buddha.
But this enigmatic eponymous animal could be none other than the spectators themselves… sitting still in front of the silver screen while the world rushes around them at an accelerated pace. Contemplative Cinema aficionados are the last survivors of a post-electronic age. And this film is the cemetery for all these brave elephants.
We are simultaneously reminded of the parable of the Blind Men feeling an elephant by its constituting parts without managing to make sense of the whole picture. One feels the trunk and believes it’s a snake. One feels the side and believe it’s a wall… The film is somehow built in this manner, with four alienated parties missing an outsider’s perspective to fully understand their situation and be understood. Four interlacing pathways.


Director’s Statement

“He thought that in the beauty of the world were hid a secret. He thought that the world’s heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world’s pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower.” (All the Pretty Horses ; Cormac McCarthy ; 1992)

« This quote from Cormac McCarthy is also the subject of this film. In our age, it’s increasingly hard for us to have faith even in the tiniest of things, and the frustration from which becomes the hallmark of today’s society. The film builds up personal myths in between daily routines. In the end, everyone loses what he or she values the most. »
(HU Bo ; 2017)


Cryptic synopsis

Four portraits of solitudes and humiliations. WEI Bu, high-school student, will get involved in an accident with the school bully in order to defend his best friend. YU Cheng, the bully’s older brother and gangster himself, will push his best friend to extreme lengths because he slept with his wife. WANG Jin, 60-year-old, is begged to move to a nursing home by his son. HUANG Ling, Bu’s crush, fears the consequences of an Internet scandal. The four of them are victims, alienated by their family and friends. Crossing path at some point with one another, always on the move, they all pursue this inscrutable elephant sitting still in Manchuria.


Interlacing pathways

The near-4h long film runs the course of a diegetic day, from dawn tilll dawn. 24 hours of a tragic turn of events, that will collide four persons’ individual lives of three generations and a bunch of side characters, family, friends, neighbours and colleagues. Maybe the worst day of their lives. Each protagonist is introduced in the morning separately, in their bed, at home within their family. One after the other, they go about their day, arguing with their loved ones for no reason until a tragedy shatters their preconceptions and alter their life for the worst. Four tragedies involving death or scandal for the least. HU Bo cross-cuts between stories alternatively, never before the 5 min mark. And the segments grow longer as the pathways begin to interlace and interact. Until three out of four protagonists join and take a trip together (but each alone).




The focus zone. Who is left out of focus?

HU Bo carefully composes his frames, always with a powerful foreground. A figure in close-up who consumes the screen almost entirely. The shallow focus sends everything to the background in a blur. And HU Bo doesn’t track focus on the talking person. His rule is to keep the massive close-up figure in sharp focus even when they are only listening or idling. Our eyes sweep the screen for moving details or secondary characters, in vain. Sometimes the face in the foreground close up is in the blur and the main character is in the middle ground. Only when two or three main characters share the same shot do they benefit from a deep focus.
The fixated focus plan reminds us that the point of view of the four main characters only prevails. They are the only persons we should look at (the others are relegated to the corner of our eyes).They are the ones who have a voice in HU Bo’s film. Their environment and the surrounding people are eternally out of focus, as if at a distance, an insurmountable no man’s land that separates the I from Them. The others. These people who fail to understand us, who blame us for everything, who judge our motivation, who invariably miscommunicate, who refuse to listen. HU Bo keeps this dispositif (device) even for a « nape shot ».




Nape camera

Popularised by Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne in Rosetta (1999), the « nape shot » or tracking shot from behind, following the footsteps of a characters with always his/her back to the camera, is abundantly utilised by HU Bo in this road movie on foot. Much like Rosetta, where a single protagonist was followed around in her grim daily routine, An Elephant Sitting Still follows around four protagonists alternatively, mostly in nape shots, seldom in frontal shots. The nape shot in shallow focus, puts all the environment in front of the protagonists and the people they meet in a blurry background. The protagonists in medium close up, back to the camera, occupy half of the screen, in sharp focus. We are denied reading the feelings of the protagonists directly in their eyes and on their face. It is frustrating at first but engaging us to project our thoughts. Béla Tarr is also fond of the nape shot, especially in Satantango (1994).


Influences

The Dardenne brothers might be an influence on HU Bo, possibly, but what is certain is that Tarr was his mentor at a workshop of the Xining FIRST festival in 2016 when he developed his script under the supervision of the CCC (Contemporary Contemplative Cinema) master. There is more BélaTarr in An Elephant Sitting Still than there are influences from Chinese masters, because of the darker lighting, the greyscale palette (even though it’s not in black and white), the gloomy society, the depressed characters, the illusion of hope and the disappointment. This said, Chinese CCC masters such as Wang Bing (Three Sisters, 2012) or Jia Zhangke (Unknown Pleasures, 2003) from the Sixth Generation, have blazed the trail for the coming of the 8th Generation.


8th generation

Bi Gan made his debut at 25 year old (Kaili Blues; 2015), and HU Bo at 29 year-old (An Elephant Sitting Still; 2018).Together they represent the brand new Eighth generation of Chinese cinema, according to Pierre Rissient, cinéphile par excellence (who passed away last year). HU Bo passed away in October 2017 after the post-production of his film. Thanks to the achievements of their CCC predecessors, thanks to the support of film festivals, HU Bo and BI Gan have begun their career on a high note. HU Bo with a 4h long debut film. BI Gan with two films ending in a near 50min long take.


 

Ellipses

Visual ellipses are in the frame (shallow focus, nape shot) as well as off screen. The true violence is kept at bay, behind the frame boundaries. When the dog is killed, the camera pans on an onlooker. When someone commits suicide, the camera lets the victim rush off screen or shifts to the side, leaving on screen the face of a witness.
Violence plays out off screen, perhaps because gory action is the most difficult to produce on set without a budget, CGI or stunts. There is a scene where one character rushes in a kitchen on fire to save the burnt cook, and the camera sees the protagonist enter the kitchen, disappear behind a blank wall, in front of which the camera tracks laterally to reveal the result through a window at the other end of the wall. A kind of lateral travelling shot reminiscent of Béla Tarr & Agnès Hranitzky’s Satantango or Damnation (2005).
A temporal ellipsis is also present. One single plan séquence is shot simultaneously from two different points of view and played back to back. One from the point of view of Bu with Cheng, in the street outside a restaurant. And the other is from the point of view of Ling with the school principal, inside the restaurant. Two perspectives of the lunch of an adultery couple. Ling exits the restaurant to chase Bu at the end of the first take, and enters the restaurant at the beginning of the second take, which could be mistaken for a continuity shot… Only after a while do we realise the film just jumped back in time, to rewind a few minutes and offer a new perspective on the same scene.


Darker lighting

Spectators who come out of this marathon screening might recall erroneously a black and white film. However the film is truly in colours, albeit faint colours and grey scales, just like the smoggy city hosting these characters. The whole film is bathed in under lit spaces, without fill in lighting. This creates a sense of doom and gloom prospect in all the shots. The actors aren’t stars, figuratively as well as metaphorically. Unlike a Hollywood star there is no bright light shining on them everywhere they go. The star of the picture is the environment, with a crude light, dim, obscure.


Contemplative mode

HU Bo’s An Elephant Sitting Still shares the same narrative mode of Contemporary Contemplative Cinema and each aspect resembles a CCC master.
Plotlessness. No plot, except for the visceral reaction of four people against a sudden tragedy, and their meandering trajectory ejected from a comfort zone orbit. His drastic script resembles Darejan Omirbaev.
Slowness. Long takes (plan séquence) and sedentary camera recording the mundane routines in their entirety. The visual style of the camerawork resembles Béla Tarr.
Alienation. There is a general sense of ennui, a feeling of solitude, a world of confusion. Each in their own peculiar way, the characters are left alone in the world, alienated from their family and friends. The darkness and hopelessness resembles Lav Diaz.
Wordlessness. Not necessarily silent nor speechy, the dialogues are merely natural conversations, laconic arguments. Actions are more powerful than words. Actions of the body in its context and the repercussions of its deployment. As few a word as Jia Zhangke.
The CCC trademarks underline HU Bo’s mise en scène, creating a recognizable genre of a placid crime story with the bullies and the victims. Nonetheless, he developed his idiosyncratic style, like no other CCC master before him, with his focus delimitation and his absence of counter shots.




Portrait of a city. Portrait of a world.

Manhzouli, border-city between Manchuria and Russia, where this funny circus has settled, is a goal-post destination, an Eldorado, an obsession for the four protagonists. Yet the Eldorado in China away from China is the obsession of the new independent Chinese cinema. And all the routes, of lonely individuals, lead to Manhzouli, eventually. Manhzouli is the ideal city, away from home, near the border in order to escape the Chinese empire.

Cheng : « The World is a wasteland. »

On the other hand the city they live in, nondescript city of the North-East, represents the harsh reality of Chinese way of life, away from the stereotypes of crazy rich capitalists in the capitals and the idealised countryside of pastoral fables. This concrete city is closer to the realist China of Wang Bing. Bu, Ling, and their friends attend the worst high-school in town, which is bound to shut down. Grey, dirty, rusty, smelly, dangerous, foggy paint for a world à la Dickens or Zola, egoistic, oppressive, unjust. We are recalling JiaZhangke’s Unknown Pleasures (2002) or The World (2004).




Duration

It has become commonplace in Slow Cinema defense to say of a film over topping the mainstream average (90-120min) that it feels shorter or not as long. It is the case here. 230 min is physically twice longer than what a standard audience would tolerate, in spite of being less exhausting. Yet the slow pace feels in constant activity, even through the pedestrian journeys from point A to point B. The stories flow continuously without a laborious accumulation of useless information. Events are inflated to resemble real life span.
When you get the chance to spend 3h50 minutes with four characters, they become friends, they become real persons we know inside out. There is a new emotional regimen at work in the identification to the protagonists after a patient attention. Instead of the content of psychological dialogues, it’s the sympathetic time spend together that forges an enduring rapport with the taciturn heroes.
4 hours (or close to that) is an ambitious stretch of time for a debut film. Even the specialist like Lav Diaz (he’s made films lasting over 12h) started his career with a « normal » feature length. HU Bo did have an open conflict with his producers to keep the final cut on a full version, which he always had in mind before shooting.




Small times

The long take is the director’s stylistic choice, which tends to comply with the CCC canon. But detractors (or confused critics) often point out to the lack of obvious motivation for this choice. A futile editing job that eschews any decision to cut. « They don’t know when to cut ! », they say.
Sometimes the cut comes in a little later than the effective cut on action. Sometimes the cut drags a little bit after the action ends to let the spectator contemplate what has just been seen, and what will come next. The Hollywood edit doesn’t let you think about images that are successively bombarded into your passive retina.
HU Bo draws attention to the dead times, after and around actions. People’s displacements become, in full, integer part of the film. They inhabit their world measuring it at length by foot. Without a clear map of this unknown city, we nonetheless figure out exactly how far they live from one another, and how small is their society.
Bu is filmed intently in the hall at the bottom of his project building staircase. What is he doing ? He rubs the end of a matchstick against the derelict cement of the wall, where he spat on his saliva, to form a ball that will stick to the ceiling after he’s lit it on fire and thrown it in the air. The camera pans up and reveals a ceiling clustered with splashes of soot around the burnt matchsticks sticking down.


Contrechamp interdit (Forbidden counter shot)

No establishing shot, no cutaway, no deep focus, no shot-counter shot. HU Bo films uniquely with plan séquences sans counter shot. Thusly limiting the spectator’s perspective to the protagonist viewpoint in each shot, where the hero of the sequence is in a foreground close up (as seen previously). André Bazin, in his most famous piece « Montage interdit » (in « Qu’est-ce que le cinéma ? », 1958), declared the forbidden edit in certain cases where the action requires to show two characters / events in the same frame at the same time, to prove the simultaneity of actions. For example to show the predator and the prey in the same shot.
Paraphrasing Bazin, we could evoke a forbidden counter shot here, similarly related to the forbidden edit for ethical reasons. Here the shot (a plan séquence) has only one side to it, one version of truth, one bias, one point of view.


Read also :


Saturday, January 12, 2019

An Elephant Sitting Still (2018/Hu Bo/China)


An Elephant Sitting Still (Hu Bo) 3h50'

In the northern Chinese city of Manzhouli, they say there is an elephant that simply sits and ignores the world. Manzhouli becomes an obsession for the protagonists of this film, a longed-for escape from the downward spiral in which they find themselves. Among them is schoolboy Bu, on the run after pushing Shuai down the stairs, who was bullying him previously. Bu's classmate Ling has run away from her mother and fallen for the charms of her teacher. Shuai's older brother Cheng feels responsible for the suicide of a friend. And finally, along with many other characters whose fates are inextricably bound together, there's Mr. Wang, a sprightly pensioner whose son wants to offload him onto a home. In virtuoso visual compositions, the film tells the story of one single suspenseful day from dawn to dusk, when the train to Manzhouli is set to depart.

Reviews :


Tuesday, December 26, 2017

(Ap)prendre le temps ? Il faut savourer l'ennui (France Culture)

Il faut savourer l'ennui (Conférences France Culture; 26 dec 2017) 57'

Mardi des Bernardins du 14 juin 2016 au Collège des Bernardins (Vimeo)

« Notre territoire s’élargit, notre calendrier rétrécit ; l’horizon recule, la profondeur s’annule ; et les nouvelles générations circulent sur le Web plus facilement que dans la chronologie »
Régis Debray, Modernes catacombes, 2013
(Ap)prendre le temps ? - Les mardis des Bernardins from Collège des Bernardins on Vimeo.

Travail de mémoire, dictature de l’instant, présent omniprésent ou présentisme…

La terminologie du temps s’étend à l’infini. Question de vitesse ou de rythme, d’accélération du temps ou d’essor de l’urgence… à quoi fait-on référence ? Où sont passés les chaînons de la continuité ? Comment réintroduire du temps long notamment dans le temps médiatique ? Peut-on aménager le temps comme on aménage l’espace ? Alors que sous le nom de présent, le contemporain tend à devenir un impératif social et politique, le temps fléché instauré par la transcendance judéo-chrétienne perd la direction ultime qui lui donne sens : l’espérance…


Intervenants
  • Jean-François Clervoy, Astronaute à l’Agence Spatiale Européenne
  • Chantal Delsol, Philosophe
  • Gilles Vernet, réalisateur de "Tout s'accélère", 2016
Débat animé par David Abiker



Saturday, February 02, 2013

Contemplation is beyond extroverts

  The Power of Introverts - Ep 1 (27 Nov 2012) 7'03"
This is a video series about introverts based on the book "Quiet" by Susan Cain. Read more about the subject at: http://www.thepowerofintroverts.com/
Created and Narrated by Daniel Widfeldt Lomas
Animated by Petri Ljatif
Music by Daniel Bayard

1 out 3 people (in North America) is introvert, and the other 2 people think that they are too SLOW, BORING, LAZY, STUPID...
Extroverts do not comprehend the "introvert mode" of world apprehension, they are incapable to engage in "contemplation", reflective thinking, quietude, silence, and need to recharge their battery by socializing and babbling randomly...

* * * 


Leading@Google: Susan Cain (8 Feb 2012) 43'49"
At least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They are the ones who prefer listening to speaking, reading to partying; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over brainstorming in teams. Although they are often labeled "quiet," it is to introverts that we owe many of the great contributions to society--from van Gogh's sunflowers to the invention of the personal computer. Passionately argued, impressively researched, and filled with indelible stories of real people, Quiet shows how dramatically we undervalue introverts, and how much we lose in doing so. Taking the reader on a journey from Dale Carnegie's birthplace to Harvard Business School, from a Tony Robbins seminar to an evangelical megachurch, Susan Cain charts the rise of the Extrovert Ideal in the twentieth century and explores its far-reaching effects. She talks to Asian-American students who feel alienated from the brash, backslapping atmosphere of American schools. She questions the dominant values of American business culture, where forced collaboration can stand in the way of innovation, and where the leadership potential of introverts is often overlooked. And she draws on cutting-edge research in psychology and neuroscience to reveal the surprising differences between extroverts and introverts. Perhaps most inspiring, she introduces us to successful introverts--from a witty, high-octane public speaker who recharges in solitude after his talks, to a record-breaking salesman who quietly taps into the power of questions. Finally, she offers invaluable advice on everything from how to better negotiate differences in introvert-extrovert relationships to how to empower an introverted child to when it makes sense to be a "pretend extrovert." This extraordinary book has the power to permanently change how we see introverts and, equally important, how introverts see themselves.



Feb 2012 (TEDtalks) 19'04"
In a culture where being social and outgoing are prized above all else, it can be difficult, even shameful, to be an introvert. But, as Susan Cain argues in this passionate talk, introverts bring extraordinary talents and abilities to the world, and should be encouraged and celebrated.
Our world prizes extroverts -- but Susan Cain makes a case for the quiet and contemplative.


Related :

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

L'attente philosophique (Arte)

Philosophie : L'attente (ARTE France; 14 Oct 2012) 26' [YouTube]
Les philosophes Nicolas Grimaldi et Raphaël Enthoven prennent leur mal en patience.
"Veuillez patienter..." A-t-on seulement le temps d'attendre ? Et quelle différence entre n'avoir plus rien à attendre et disparaître ? Avec le philosophe Nicolas Grimaldi, Raphaël Enthoven explore nos propensions à l'attente, dans l'espoir d'être plus tard ce qu'on voudrait être ici et maintenant.

Filmographie suggérée du Cinéma Contemplatif Contemporain :
  • Le moindre geste (1971/Deligny/Manenti/France)
  • Jeanne Dielman (1976/Akerman/Belgique)
  • D'est (1993/Akerman/Belgique)
  • A Humble Life (1997/Sokurov/Japan/Russia)
  • Mother and Son (1997/Sokurov/Russia)
  • La blessure (2004/Klotz/Belgique)
  • Hamaca Paraguaya (2006/Encina/Paraguay)
  • Fantasma (2006/Alonso/Argentina)
  • Colossal Youth (2006/Costa/Portugal)
  • El Cants dels Ocells (2008/Serra/Spain)
  • Uncle Boonmee who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010/Weerasethakul/Thailand)
  • Bal (2010/Kaplanoglu/Turkey)
  • The turin Horse (2011/Tarr/Hungary)
  • Hurtigruten (2011/NRK/Norway)



Voir aussi :

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Le délicieux mystère de l'inconnu(e) à l'écran (Kiarostami)

Abbas KIAROSTAMI : "Ce qui me touche beaucoup dans le cinéma d'Ozu, ce sont évidemment ces plan fixes, larges, qui font de l'écran de cinéma une scène de théatre où le spectateur a toute liberté de poser son regard, de chercher ce qui l'intéresse sur un plan. C'est ce respect pour le spectateur, cette foi en l'intelligence et au libre arbitre du spectateur, est quelque chose pour laquelle j'ai effectivement beaucoup d'amiration, et qui selon moi manque beaucoup dans le cinéma d'aujourd'hui. Chercher à imposer au spectateur ce qu'il doit voir, ce qu'il doit ressentir, est quelque chose à quoi je ne peux pas adhérer.
Je crois que la discretion est la différence de sa caméra, le fait de la poser loin, sur un petit pied, et le fait de dire au spectateur : 'je ne suis pas là en tant que réalisateur, ce regard n'est pas le mien mais le votre' fait preuve d'une grande noblesse, d'un grand homme, et moi je ne peux qu'être admiratif de cette posture en tant que réalisateur.
Et je crois que cette dimension-là, ce regard sur le cinéma, s'assimile beaucoup à celui de Robert Bresson, donc je pense qu'il est juste ici de citer également son nom et de dire que moi j'appartiendrais à cette esprit-là, à cette école-là du cinéma. [..]"

Laure Adler : "Vous etes l'un des rares cinéastes au monde qui osiez faire écran noir [lors de la mort du protagoniste à la fin du Gout de la Cerise], pourquoi?"
Abbas KIAROSTAMI : "Il faut peut-être de l'audace pour oser l'écran noir au cinéma, mais en l'occurance dans ce film auquel vous faites allusion, ça me paraissait absoluement naturel. Je pouvais l'assumer pleinement puisqu'il était question de mort. Et pour moi il ne s'agissait pas d'évoquer les ténèbres, il n'y a rien de sombre et d'obscure, c'est le noir comme un vide, dans sa dimension statique. Donc dans la représentation du vide, c'était pour moi la façon la plus évidente de la faire, pour dire qu'il n'y avait plus rien. C'est jusqu'à ce jour la représentation que j'ai de la mort, au moins ma représentation esthétique de la mort. Donc il était pour moi naturel de dire cet homme-là n'entends plus, ne voit plus, donc vous n'avez plus rien à voir ni à entendre. Je l'ai fait dans d'autres films. Dans un film comme ABC Africa il y a 7 minutes de noir, là il fallait peut-être plus de courage pour l'imposer puisqu'il n'était plus question du même thème. Mais j'aime à avoir recours à ce procédé. Peut-être il y aussi une dimension plus profonde, moins consciente, et moins choisie, qui est un rapport que j'ai avec la vie, pas seulement au cinéma. Je trouve qu'il est toujours bon de fermer les yeux sur ce que l'on sait avoir en face de soi, ne plus le voir et l'entendre pour pouvoir rouvrir les yeux et le redécouvrir. Et je pense qu'au cinéma aussi il est bon de rappeler au spectateur qu'il n'est pas acquis, que cela ne va pas de soi, qu'il y aie des choses à voir et à entendre sur un écran, qu'il est bon de faire le vide, de faire table rase des images qui leur sont proposées pour leur donner un regard nouveau, une fraicheur nouvelle, une innocence de la redécouverte de l'image et du son. [..]"

A propos de Like Someone in Love, et le jeu des acteurs non-professionels :
Abbas KIAROSTAMI : "[..] Dans la première séquence, j'ai dit à l'acteur qu'il était 'proxénète', mais il avait une façon de se déplacer qui m'avait effrayé. Dès qu'on donne une étiquette, un statut à un acteur, ils vont chercher leur références dans des clichés de cinéma, et donc ils essaient de donner à voir ce qu'ils ont vu au cinéma. donc je me suis dit, il ne faut pas leur donner de statut à jouer, c'est à moi de voir leur statut d'amoureux ou de presqu'amoureux. C'est l'histoire qui doit faire avancer cette idée-là. Si je leur dis qu'ils sont amoureux, eux veulent jouer l'amour. [..]
En effet, j'admets volontiers le fait que le début n'est pas un début si l'on s'en tient aux règles de cinéma, et la fin non plus n'est pas une fin. J'ai essayé de trouver un début et une fin, mais je n'ai pas réussi. Je crois que la curiosité que l'on a dans la vrai vie, je fais la demande au spectateur de ne pas s'en départir quand ils s'installent dans le fauteuil d'une salle de cinéma. Je trouve que ces fauteuils sont absoluement terribles, parce que je trouve que les spectateurs échangent leur curiosité naturelle contre le ticket q'on leur a vendu avant d'y poser leur derrière.
Quand vous vous asseyez dans un bar, votre oreille vagabonde et va surprendre des conversations qui se déroulent autour de vous. Vous entendez par intermittance et vous commencez à vous demander : 'Est-ce qu'ils sont mariés? Est-ce qu'ils sont frère et sœur? Est-ce qu'ils sont amants?' Pour moi ce qui est intéressant c'est d'avoir le même état d'esprit au cinéma. Moi-même, je souhaite découvrir au cinéma, je ne souhaite pas recevoir des annonces. Donc, naturellement vous entrez de façon très progressive dans l'histoire. Parce que cette conversation que cette jeune fille a avec son petit ami est quelque chose d'extrèmement intime, et on n'a aucune légitimité pour débouler dans cette intimité. Il est normal qu'on y accède avec une certaine distance, une certaine discretion. Il faut qu'on se donne un peu de peine, un peu de curiosité pour y accéder. Je sais que les fauteuils de cinéma ne sont pas prévus pour cet état d'esprit. Je sais que je ne suis pas un réalisateur très populaire. Mais qu'est-ce que je peux y faire? Je fais les films que j'ai envie de voir."

Laure Adler : "Comment installez-vous un scénario? Comment installez-vous une atmosphère dans ce scénario? Et comment invitez-vous les spectateurs à participer à ce sentiment si doux et si tendre [dans la scène ou la prostituée s'endort dans le lit du vieux client], qui peut inspirer des êtres humains quelque soit leur génération?"
Abbas KIAROSTAMI : "Je ne peux m'empêcher de vous remercier pour vos questions. C'est ce dont nous avons besoin. Vous créez quelque chose dans l'espoir que le spectateur le voit. De même que j'espère qu'ils ne voient pas des choses que je n'y ai pas mis. Mais c'est la combinaison des deux qui est intéressante. C'est à vous de décider ce qui vous échappe et ce qui capte votre attention. Le film ne m'appartient plus, il vous appartient à vous. Je crois qu'à partir du moment le réalisateur admet ce principe, il n'essaie plus de maitriser la perception du spectateur de son film. Le mystère auquel vous faites allusion depuis le début de cette conversation me semble être intrinsèque à la nature humaine. Je ne vois pas qui peut prétendre de percer le mystère de celui ou celle qu'il ou elle aime depuis 40 ans. Quand finissons-en nous de percer notre propre mystère intérieur? La compléxité est évidente dans la nature humaine. Donc des personnages très clairs et unidimensionels que l'on peut voir dans certains films, me paraissent extrèmement artificiels, extrèmement inhumains. Pour moi ce cinéma-là c'est de la pornographie, on ne peut pas percer à ce point à jour un être. Le mystère est la partie essentielle d'une personne, d'un personnage, pour moi. Donc quand un réalisateur se figure qu'il a la responsabilité d'entrer dans les moindres détails de la psychologie d'un personnage, j'ai envie de leur dire... ce n'est pas qu'il ne faut pas, mais ils ne peuvent pas le faire. Nous connaissons tous des personnes qui font des thérapies depuis plus de 10 ans pour percer leur propre mystère, et n'y parviennent pas. Tous ce que nous avons c'est un croquis, une esquisse d'une personne. Préciser davantage le trait revient à faire de la pornographie. Donc j'assume le mystère."
Laure Adler reçoit Abbas Kiarostami (Hors Champ; France Culture; 12 Sept 2012) [MP3] 45' [Farsi-Français] traduit par Massoumeh Lahidji


Voir aussi :

Monday, July 02, 2012

L'homme sans nom (Wang Bing/Didi-Huberman)



L'Homme sans nom (30 Mai 2012)  
Wang Bing : pour montrer, à travers son film L'Homme sans nom – qui apparaît comme le revers et le prolongement de son immense fresque À l'ouest des rails –, comment il est possible de faire, avec la plus grande modestie formelle qui soit, un acte authentique d'exposition des peuples, un acte d'écoute attentive et de pure délicatesse envers autrui. Comment, donc, l'artiste n'y « prend » aucune image de l'être filmé, mais se contente (il y faut beaucoup de travail) de nous la « rendre ».


Faire l'histoire des sans-noms (23 Mai 2012) vidéo 1h22' 
Inviter Arlette Farge : pour comprendre comment une pratique de l'histoire, fondée sur la « critique des discours » instaurée par Michel Foucault, peut délivrer, dans les « blancs » ou les singularités de l'archive, la parole et les gestes - même intimes - de ceux à qui l'on n'a pas voulu donner la parole ni la possibilité d'assumer leurs gestes singuliers. Arlette Farge est directrice de recherche à l'EHESS, historienne des comportements populaires au XVIIIe siècle et des relations entre le monde masculin et féminin à la même époque. Parmi ses derniers ouvrages : Essai pour une histoire des voix au XVIIIe siècle (Bayard, 2009).

Voir aussi :

Tuesday, June 05, 2012

Fogo (Olaizola)

Fogo (2012/Yulene Olaizola/Mexico/Canada) 1h01'
Cannes 2012 - Quinzaine des Réalisateurs
The deterioration of a small community in Fogo Island is forcing its inhabitants to leave and resettle. Places once occupied by humans are now becoming part of the tundra landscape. In spite of a condemn future, there are some residents who decide to remain, holding on to their memories and grieving for the past, when life in Fogo was different.

Interview :
"Basically in those kind of shots, where they are just walking and we are shooting the landscape, it took us a long time to set up the camera, to decide the place and to frame... So we were working on that for a few hours and then I just gave them directions from which point to which point to go. And everything else was all improvisation. They just had to walk. When I talk about improvisation, it's when they talk to eachothers in the dialogues. So the dialogues are really improvised. [..]
The film is about life, it's about people who love their land. I think all those concepts were appearing in the film little by little. Maybe I didn't have them all clear in my head. I was inspired by what I saw in that place. And one of the things that stroke me the most was to meet these two characters, Norm and Ron, who are young guys compared to the rest of the island's population. Thye never got married for exemple. They used to live outside of the island where they could find more jobs, but they decided to come back to the island even though they probably knew they couldn't find a woman there. But they don't care about that. they don't care about founding a family. They wanted to be in their land. That's one of the things I wanted the film to reflect. And that's why I decided to tell this story about this question of staying or leaving the island. [..]
I think the rhythm of the film is connected to the life on the island, where the people are really connected to Nature. The weather is one of the most important things. I exagerated the slow rhythm a little bit maybe to illustrate the idea that it's dying. That's why the characters sometimes stop and stare for a while. It was my way to reflect the idea that they were thinking about the end of something. The end of the life in that place. Or the end of the world. It was my way to say it in a subtle manner. [..]
If you see my other films, especially the last one, Artificial Paradises (2011), which I shot in a Mexican jungle, the connection with Nature and the character is also very special. But it was also because I chose a real character in Fogo, who was connected to Nature. So I don't show my personal connection with Nature, but theirs."


Related filmography :
* * *

La Nuit Nomade (2012/Marianne Chaud/France)



An ethnographic documentary on a small tribe, dying out to rural exodus, of 20 families in a remote valley of the Indian Hymalayas (Kashmir region). Marianne Chaud is a French student in ethnography who has been studying their language and is able to talk to them directly, without interpreters, which they are quite grateful and admirative about. She follows them in the harsh conditions of this high mountain climate, on foot, only assisted by a sound engineer, during a few months. A totally immersive document about real people victim of the exploitation of the luxury business (the kashmir wool) for which they raise kashmir goats at the price of great sacrifices for them and their families.

Related :

Friday, October 21, 2011

Solitude (France Culture)

Les nouveaux chemins de la connaissance (France Culture) Adèle Van Reeth
série sur La Solitude (17-21 Octobre 2011) 4 x 50 min
  1. Seul sur le sable avec Robinson Crusoé (17 Octobre 2011) [MP3] 50'
    à propos de la solitude de Robinson dans l'oeuvre de Michel Tournier
    Jean-Pierre Zarader, historien de la philosophie et philosophe français, Professeur de philosophie au lycée Saint Martin de France à Pontoise, chercheur-associé à l'UMR 7171 de Paris-III – CNRS
  2. L'invention du solitaire (18 Octobre 2011) [MP3] 50'
    Dominique Rabaté, universitaire, essayiste
  3. Seul avec à Dieu : la mystique (19 Octobre 2011) [MP3] 50'
    Ghislain Waterlot
  4. Walden, Henry David Thoreau (20 Octobre 2011) [MP3] 50'
    Michel Granger

Bibliographie:
  • Michel Tournier, Vendredi ou la vie sauvage (1971) / Vendredi ou les Limbes du pacifique (1967) / Gilles Deleuze, postface de Vendredi ou les Limbes du pacifique
  • Pascal, Trois discours sur la condition des grands
  • Rousseau,  1ère & Vème promenade, Les rêveries du promeneur solitaire
  • Kafka, Lettres à Felice (traduction Marthe Robert)
  • Sacha Guitry, Un soir quand on est seul
  • Tomas Alvarez , Dictionnaire Sainte Thérèse d'Avila : son temps, sa vie, son oeuvre et la spiritualité carmélitaine
  • Dominique de Courcelles, Ghislain Waterlot, La mystique face aux guerres mondiales, 2010
  • Michel Cornuz, Le ciel est en toi : introduction à la mystique chrétienne, 2001
  • Henry David Thoreau, Walden 

Suggestion pour une filmographie CCC relative à la solitude :
  • Hors Satan (2011/Bruno Dumont/France)
  • The Hunter (2010/Raffi Pitts/Iran) 
  • Le quattro volte (2010/Michelangelo Frammartino/Italy)
  • La Libertad (2001/Lisandro Alonso/Argentina) / Los Muertos (2003/Lisandro Alonso/Argentina) / Liverpool (2008/Lisandro Alonso/Argentina)
  • Là-bas (2006/Chantal Akerman/Belgium/France) 
  • Les Hommes (2006/Ariane Michel/France) 
  • Into Great Silence (2005/Gröning/Germany)
  • Sangre (2005/ESCALANTE/Mexico)
  • Last Days (2005/VAN SANT/USA)
  • Batalla en el cielo (2005/REYGADAS/Mexico) 
  • The Brown Bunny (2003/GALLO/USA) 
  • Uzak /Distant (2002/CEYLAN/Turkey)
  • Japon (2002/REYGADAS/Mexico) 
  • What time is it over there? (2001/TSAI/Taiwan) 
  • Freedom (2000/BARTAS/Lithuania)
  • The Straight Story (1999/LYNCH/USA)
  • A Humble Life (1997/SOKUROV/Japan/Russia)
  • Jeanne Dielman (1975/Chantal Akerman/Belgium)
  • Le Moindre Geste (1971/DELIGNY/MANENTI/France)
  • Tu imagines Robinson (1967/Jean-Daniel Pollet/France)



Related :