I'm not knowledgeable on the subject of French art film so take this review with a grain of salt.
The film alternates between two time frames: it begins with the suicide of a beautiful girl, and thereafter shows us the desolation of her husband on her bedside, remembering their relationship and telling of it to a housemaid. It's got brilliant bookends: this structure allows the film to both begin and end with the same suicide.
It's very subdued. If you thought 'Lost in Translation' was low-key, you haven't seen anything yet. There's no music in the movie, barely any dialog and the camera barely moves. There's a couple of fast cuts at the suicide scene, making your heart leap, but that's it. Everything else is painfully real, not embellished by any cinematic tricks in any way.
And yet it still doesn't feel like looking at real life. I think Richard Linklater's movies capture that 'real life' feel the best. What I felt watching this Bresson picture was a detachment. Even though it gives you exactly the real thing and nothing else, it has a dreamlike quality to it. I think it's because of the abnormal quietness. All the people in the film are resigned, defeated - the girl not so much at first, but finally she succumbs to it, too.
My attention was drawn to all the scenes where the husband walks. There's a lot of walking, which you notice because of the sound of the steps - shoes on a wooden floor or stairs, with no background music to cover it.
The film alternates between two time frames: it begins with the suicide of a beautiful girl, and thereafter shows us the desolation of her husband on her bedside, remembering their relationship and telling of it to a housemaid. It's got brilliant bookends: this structure allows the film to both begin and end with the same suicide.
It's very subdued. If you thought 'Lost in Translation' was low-key, you haven't seen anything yet. There's no music in the movie, barely any dialog and the camera barely moves. There's a couple of fast cuts at the suicide scene, making your heart leap, but that's it. Everything else is painfully real, not embellished by any cinematic tricks in any way.
And yet it still doesn't feel like looking at real life. I think Richard Linklater's movies capture that 'real life' feel the best. What I felt watching this Bresson picture was a detachment. Even though it gives you exactly the real thing and nothing else, it has a dreamlike quality to it. I think it's because of the abnormal quietness. All the people in the film are resigned, defeated - the girl not so much at first, but finally she succumbs to it, too.
My attention was drawn to all the scenes where the husband walks. There's a lot of walking, which you notice because of the sound of the steps - shoes on a wooden floor or stairs, with no background music to cover it.