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Regie Chantal Akerman
Je, tu, il, elle
An atmospheric, slow-burn drama.
Eine junge Frau, die allein in ihrem Zimmer ist, wird von Liebeskummer geplagt. Sie stellt die wenigen Möbelstücke um und bringt sie dann heraus, mit Ausnahme ihrer Matratze. Nach und nach entledigt sie sich auch ihrer Kleidung, ist Zucker und schreibt einen Brief. Schließlich verlässt die Frau die Wohnung. Ein Lastwagenfahrer nimmt sie per Anhalter mit und ermöglicht ihr so, zu der Frau zu gelangen, die sie liebt.
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chantal akerman did not give a fuck she really said here's a 15 minute sex scene with me in it. that was fighting for gay rights, people were killed.I loved the beginning and end of this but I wish that man didn't have that much screentime. chantal knows what it is to be gay and depressed like no one else.
not sure there will ever be anything as powerful as Chantal Akerman sitting on the floor eating sugar straight out of the bag for like twenty minutes
It takes a moment to realize that, yes, she's eating sugar straight out of a brown paper bag. What at first seems like it's going to just be an interesting study of a human being and her emotional inner monologue turns into a strange journey through baser emotions. I can only assume the... raw eating habit is indicative of some sort of basic craving. She's ingesting pure energy, something sweet but not complex. It's not necessarily about need, but want. Perhaps because of the focus on food throughout the film, especially the sugar and the neat way Julie's ex-girlfriend folds up the sandwich she creates, the climactic sex scene of this film reminded me of a more direct, slower Svankmajer. The bodies twist and writhing, struggle and mesh, intertwine and fold over, connect over and over like the flesh and dough of Svankmajer's stop-motion exercises. Like his works, they seem to merge together at times, becoming one pale, flesh anomaly. At the same time, it's not unappealing. Their tussling is primal. It's striking. The interlude with the trucker seems to be tinted with bemusement. His views on the more permanent relationships in his life are crude where Julie's seemingly brief connections are more honest and powerful. He is casually sexist and disgusting, while Julie's quiet encounters suggest something more pure. He is chained to his wife and child, while also seeking freedom. Julie, with her intense emotional letters and reunion with a past girlfriend, is certainly not without connection, but she has a free quality to her that seems not to take advantage of those she touches. She does not view either of her sexual partners, as far as we can tell, with anything but earnest desire or smiling interest. The truck driver provides a contrast of an ostensibly straight, married life that is full of vulgarities and broken taboos. What Julie has with her ex-girlfriend seems natural and real by comparison.
A woman suffers a subdued psychological breakdown in the wake of a devastating breakup.
Chantal Akerman directed the 1974 experimental drama, which stands as an influential landmark of feminist and queer cinema.
