is a boon for those in Venice this year there is gone. Out of hours in exchange for a few thousand euro and before distribution in theaters, manages to give (even if half an hour before the official program ... but so be it, two miracles can not get along with) an extraordinary black and white A huge special effect that is not nostalgia but self-criticism, a return to the '68 Paris today, a moment after a dispute and before everything vanishes into the void of disappointment.
Very few films are imprinted in the mind for its ability to be able to exude the reality of thoughts, all that is experienced and perceived. The beauty of the film certainly is not knowing how to tell how all of a sequel with the
The Dreamers by Bertolucci, but also the incredible and rare gift to give a sense of universality as an overflowing fullness and a few great epics. The impression may be that seeing a Heimat three hours, without appearing as its trailer. Ghezzi and in fact in presenting the film mentioned is the giant Reitz saga that far away from Star Wars Episode III (the connection point, return to the accounts of the past, the sequel to infinity ...) contextualizing, as if it were needed, in large accounts through which passes the intimate history. The cool Silver Lion is crossed by three steps necessary: \u200b\u200bthe challenge, the consequences and the critical utopia, the 'inevitable individualism. The first part does not allow other forms which are not true: plans and long drives on the police vehicle on the protesters, few words, creating an apocalyptic atmosphere of sounds and shapes. In the second the good motivation of a piano (maybe any), the faces around, closer to us, including one of the guys who smoked opium, the crucial meetings to parties, to escape from the gendarme, and few / many words of self-criticism makes it eternal. The age of few words, it is inevitable that individualism friendships that end, swallowed up by the utopian reality, the love that gives meaning to everything. The story is always the same, but the way it is told that we like.
Garrel juggles a sense of bitterness, the awareness of being the last French film lovers to talk about '68 and all the pictures that has been done in 38 years. And thanks to this film manages to wipe out all the disappointment of the film again from that very last moment of utopia, with a very personal and bitter self-criticism, which is not concise. The last becomes one of the first.
So many words to say the film is beautiful and is now just another back to me in mind, L'Atalante by Jean Vigo
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