Lost in the Movies: michelangelo antonioni
Showing posts with label michelangelo antonioni. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michelangelo antonioni. Show all posts

The Favorites - L'Eclisse (#53)


The Favorites is a series briefly exploring films I love, to find out what makes them - and me - tick. L'Eclisse (1962/Italy/dir. Michelangelo Antonioni) appeared at #53 on my original list.

What it is • The story? Vittoria (Monica Vitti) breaks up with her boyfriend, and begins a romance with a young stockbroker (Alain Delon) in chic early sixties Rome. But is that really what the film "is"? At the very least, it's a stunningly photographed film, with some of the most gorgeous images in cinema history. But there are many films with jaw-dropping cinematography which nonetheless feel vapid - hell, a lot of TV commercials are quite nice to look at. L'Eclisse is something more. Like the greatest examples of still photography, L'Eclisse uses inventive compositions to capture our eye, stirring our senses on a fundamental level we weren't even aware of. Objects loom unusually in the frame, conjuring up uncanny sensations, while the actors' expressions convey deep sensitivity yet maintain an intriguing reserve. Even more importantly, this is cinema, not still photography. Antonioni is a master of subtle, arresting movement - of both camera and subject: sometimes only the actor's faces flicker or flinch but that's enough to thrill us. I can't find the exact quote, but Antonioni once claimed to be driving along a road flanked by a scenic landscape on the one side and rundown, abandoned industry on the other. He recalled shifting his gaze over to the empty factories, despite the natural beauty out one window. Why? Because "people had been there." However alienating/alienated his characters, however much he privileges the blocking and movement of performers over their dialogue, however dominated by empty space his frames can be, Antonioni's pictorialism is ultimately defined by a deep humanism.

Why I like it •

Fragments of Cinephilia, Pt. II


Short thoughts on: The deaths of Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni • The Wild OneThe Virgin SpringThe Departed and Infernal AffairsBus 174 Pan's Labyrinth and The Spirit of the Beehive • John Cassevetes and Noah Baumbach • The Stranger • Benito Mussolini's weenie

A year and a half ago, I transferred ten of my old comments from the Internet Movie Database to The Dancing Image, in a post called "Fragments of Cinephilia". This here is the follow-up: ten further memoirs of my pre-blogging days, in this case recycled from the summer of 2007 and including some great quotations from others. The topics range from heady to trivial: we start on a silent Olympus and end with a castrated dictator. Feel free to leave your own musings below - one of the pleasures of my old hunting ground (the IMDb) was the give-and-take, and I'd love to see it continue here. Enjoy.

Fragments of Cinephilia


Short thoughts on: The River • Stranger Than ParadiseL'Avventura  Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer • Howard Hawks • AFI lists • Wilford Brimley's physique

These fragments were originally comments on the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) left by yours truly in his pre-blogging days. The jump into blogging was a good move, all things considered, but sometimes I miss the spontaneity and clarity offered by commenting. Since I don't really do capsules or random observations these days, I'd like to revive some of these comments here; they are generally quick and to the point, no padding. These selections (dating from September 2007 to June 2008) are the first 10 I found worth reprinting. Some are general musings, some are focused on a particular film or moment, some are just amusing observations (amusing to me anyway). If you enjoy this sort of thing, let me know and I'll continue from time to time; there's plenty more where these came from. I've already noted that I'd occasionally like to reproduce older writing on this blog - to give myself a break once in a while, if nothing else. Before blogging, IMDb was my movie home, so here's a walk down memory lane. Comments begin after the jump.

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