| |
1950s |
| |
The 400 Blows, Directed by François Truffaut
All About Eve, Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz
Diary of a Country Priest, Directed by Robert Bresson
Elevator to the Gallows, Directed by Louis Malle
Hiroshima Mon Amour, Directed by Alain Resnais
Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Directed by Don Siegel
Night and Fog, Directed by Alain Resnais
Nights of Cabiria, Directed by Federico Fellini
The Night of the Hunter, Directed by Charles Laughton
On the Waterfront, Directed by Elia Kazan
Pickpocket, Directed by Robert Bresson
The Seven Samurai, Directed by Akira Kurosawa
Some Like It Hot, Directed by Billy Wilder
Touch of Evil, Directed by Orson Welles |
|
|
Hiroshima Mon Amour, Directed by Alain Resnais
Argos Films, June 10, 1959 (France)
Screenplay: Marguerite Duras
Starring: Emmanuelle Riva, Eiji Okada, Stella Dassas, Pierre Barbaud, and Bernard Fresson
A prayer for the lost city. A lost people. The tortured remains of victims crawl from ruins straight into fear. Inexplicable life blossoms from the crust as time moves total oblivion into total oblivion.
Food becomes an object of fear.
An entire city’s food is thrown away.
The food of entire cities is buried.
An entire city rises up in anger.
Entire cities rise up in anger.
But against whom do they rise in anger up?
The anger of entire cities,
whether they like it or not,
against the principle of inequality advanced by one people
against another.
The principle of inequality advanced by certain races
against other
races.
The principle of inequality advanced by certain classes
against other classes.
-Elle (Emmanuelle Riva)
In present day, amidst the rebuilt ruins, two strangers meet, weaving in and out of possibility and reality, dodging ghosts of the past and future. It is a desperate embrace within a scarred civilization, trying to hold on in the face of utter decay. Piece by piece, it will fade to black, as it did before 200,000 times over in a demonic instant. What once was will be no more. Memories incinerate the night, leaving nothing behind but ashy hell. The knowledge that such a love and such a place really did exist at all will be the last artifact stolen.
One day without his hands and she knows the pain of love.
Silly little girl,
who died of love in Nevers.
Little girl from Nevers with a shaven head,
this evening I relinquish you to oblivion.
Dime-store romance.
As it was with him, forgetting will being with your eyes.
Then, as was with him, it will swallow your voice.
You will become a song.
-Elle
In the end, nothing.
-G
|
|
 |
PRINT
TWITTER
FACEBOOK
EMAIL
MORE