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Lists are impossible. Regret is built into this type of endeavour. Pardon the omissions. Giving preference to films Criterion made available to this cinephile. Work-in-progress, (in)definitely.
Without *Sans Soleil*, where would cinema be? Where would I be? (When asked about film recommendations, which are few and far between these days, I immediately say, *Sans Soleil*, hoping to bewitch them with the title alone.) It's possible that Chris Marker's film-essay may be the template to some of my "creative work" (like my dissertation?) because of its themes of cinema, obsessions, and a desire for communication, among many other things. (When asked what it's about, I hesitate. "It's a love letter, you see" is how I begin my pitch. "And it's about many many things. You just got to see it for yourself." Thus far, I have convinced no one. Their loss. It'll be our secret.) Everyone should create a *Sans Soleil*-like work in the medium of their choice.
For an armchair revolutionary, this is as close as I'll get to actual fire.
She talks to herself about having friends. This was before Facebook.
Hits home for this ex-Catholic made by a crypto-Catholic. When light enters the room, I really want to believe in the concept of the soul but I only have cinema...
The French title is better: Sans toit ni loi. During a talk, Varda intimated that some of the protagonist's experiences are her own. This movie scares me.
Electric youth. Wong's nostalgia is also mine, especially when Faye Wong starts singing. Takeshi Kaneshiro, will you marry me?
The nonsense of linear narrativity. Nothing is real, everything else is.
So caustic, it'll burn your flesh.
Performance of a lifetime. I felt I lived her life.
The trick is where to put the camera and for how long. Mizoguchi has no peer when it comes to this.
She starts dancing and the old man ends up croaking. Nutso fabuloso. Is this cinema or is it critique?
Nothing shocks me as the loss of faith, especially mine, which is unending.
Espectacular. This is how you do a thriller.
On geopolitical and carnal (in)sovereignty.
Trust me, this is a masterpiece.
Alienation and cinephilia. That right there is my autobiography. Years ago, I thought the film was a thing of beauty. Don't know now.