Description: film-related musings...
“Just wait. Things may change.” “They won’t change.” There are many refrains in Les amants réguliers that threaten to synthesize the film’s 183 minutes of ideas into one line of dialogue. I wanted to resist buying into the impulse of picking one of these refrains as the film’s massive canvas alone suggests the enormous density of its pull. This is an enormous film. In its length, obviously, but more importantly in its approach. Garrel’s lack of concision could strike some a detriment, but the enormity of hi
“I was given a molotov cocktail. All I had to do with throw it” This is what François tells us within the film’s first fifteen minutes. The ostensible protagonist is introduced to us an idealistic poet, a true romantic if there ever was one. His circumstances have offered him a swelling sense of purpose. It’s 1968 in Paris and revolutionary fervor is high. François doesn’t make a living, but he does make poetry and his well-off would-be comrade Antoine can house him in his opulent mansion. The initial enthu
I very distinctly remember sitting in a bar with my friend the day after the 2016 election. At the end, it seemed like a epoch-level event and our presence in a Lower Manhattan protest earlier in the evening felt like us living up to the moment. It felt important, and more importantly justified and right. Protests proliferated during the fallout of the election. It seemed that every protest eventually concluded with someone admitting their exhaustion and suggesting the inevitable nightcap. Many of people I