re: Trouble Every Day
. Certainly not, it´s a deeply earnest masterpiece. In fact I understand your bafflement (a friend of mine called Denis´ last two films quite aptly "movies frm another planet"). I´m not sure what it all amounts to in the end myself (but then, I like movies that keep their secrets: on two viewings it did, although the second time I managed to notice the surprisingly clear storyline); it´s obviously a film about desire and its consequences - seen in mere face wrinkles and gushing wounds. It juxtaposes two extremes - isolation and atavistic lust -, but each seems a bad choice ultimately. There´s also a strange undercurrent about class differences which I don´t know what to with, much less the references to earlier movies who all seem weirdly disconnected from Denis´ otherworldly, strangely haunting (those melancholy corridors, blue-green, in that Heartbreak Hotel
: thank you, Agnes Godard) and disturbingly beautiful mise-en-scene. Probably it all boils down to a simple statement about love and pain being intertwined, eros and thanatos etc., but what mesmerizes me is the form, the lyrics of the ballad: that turqouise scarf gliding over the roofs of Paris like Dominique Sanda´s in La femme douce
, those Feulladishly deserted streets full of sad echoes and lonesome Vampires
, that stupefyingly eluding capsule spinning in that clinically lit institute, the Jackson Pollock dripping wall with Dalle all red, as if having come, impossibly, through the bricks, and just the sound of their breaths when she devours The Little Thief
. (The scene may be even more chilling if you close your eyes).
Short digression on Dalle whom I had never liked up to now: amazing how feral she is here, her slightly unproportionate features like the rersults of inner tectonic shifts. That and her role in Suwas a tad pretentious, oft-captivating essay-feature on Hiroshima Mon Amour
, memory and displacement, H Story
, where she looks like an aged crackwhore and behaves like a wounded, glowing animal, also last year, pretty much seal her comeback; at least for me.
I don´t know whether I understood the movie better the second time around (the logistics yes, but the rhymes overwhelmed again like the first time), I do know that I loved it even more and that I pondered my emotional life with more scrutiny afterwards. And still. There´s not many films that have done that. There are not many films who make that ingenious use of the tactility of the body and of a Tindersticks score.