OK, i'll tell her.
Early on it seems that the entire film will take place over one year of Suzanne's life but before long there are entire months or years between scenes. For me this is the film's major flaw since we can't see how each character reacts to some major plot events and the film is robbed of all dramatic impact.
The way this starts makes it seem more a Rohmer: discontent adolescents, promiscuity abound, literary namedrops, seaside locations - à la Pialat’s Green Ray, or Pauline, or Summer’s Tale or something like it. My initial response: stick with the Rohmers; Pialat’s realism here, if not listless a match, then now benign. But it then finds more engaging footing away from the coastal settings and in the domestic unit. Its cogent stretches, while tending on the hysterical, bestow thoughtful, unnerving drama on conflicted youth. Pialat should’ve acted more often.
Suzanne's driven by the moment and trifles with love, but she's neither scheming nor naïve. This unique paradox overwhelms me and M. Pialat teaches the contemporary path to frame family and the interesection among its elements through raw and naked images as our access to life tells us so. Never an elliptical device showed so much effectiveness in the echoes of sex, violence and love of such handsome fauves!
its interesting to see in a movie about all this sensuality and sex and desire, not one person knows anything about love or how to love. Even if I detest the actions of the main character, I was drawn to her and the direction each of her naive decisions led her to. Definitely intense and moving
Holy eroticism. I've heard numerous comparisons of Pialat to Cassavetes, but this film feels like a tip of the hat to Rohmer more than anything else. Great company to have your name included with regardless.
Pialat sublinha a inevitabilidade da representação, mas consciente dela alcança um realismo literalmente brutal. Como Ozu, admite o caos que é a existência humana e recusa-se a tentar organizá-lo numa narrativa lógica. O que importa é o registro do momento em toda a potência do viver. No final, talvez não teremos compreendido o que motivou essa ou aquela ação, mas por 90 min, sentimos a vida. O que mais importa?
What a schizophrenic film! In equal parts lush and jarring, sensual and nauseating, quiet and violent. Appropriately perhaps, as it charts a girl's uneasy stumble into adulthood. The film fractures inexplicably in the middle, but by the last scene it has recovered much of the charm of the early scenes. One can see why Pialat has been compared to Cassavetes, but I enjoyed À nos amours infinitely more than any of his films.