Yeah that's what I said. Depressed people seem to be acting harsh but people often misunderstand the root of the problem, which is what this movie is about. This movie portrays it so well that it's hard to watch.
Neither the youthful abscondment of Elevator to the Gallows nor the matured yearning of The Lovers, The Fire Within cuts through the post-adolescent, anguished search for meaning against desire and connection, through the male gaze with a restrained, Bressonian sobriety. Notwithstanding a muffled humanity, its exchanges of apathy, however, brink on arid platitudes, as Malle’s versatility remains tacitly exhibited. Alternatively: Breathless, had Godard and Belmondo been that much greater nihilists (while just less of one than Pickpocket still). Rather: ho-hum.
this was certainly one of the best portrayals of anxiety and depression that I've seen on film during this time. this was also a much darker piece of French new wave cinema, and much quieter. it hangs on every word, every scene, with no colors to hang to. the day he says his goodbyes is echoing every now and then, in his mind. the film is beautifully depressing, but needs to be seen.
Suicidal and clinically depressed people are definitely hard to be around, and its almost shocking to watch all these other people who love the main character keep saying things like, "I'm so happy to see you! We need you back! You must keep checking in!" when the guy acts like a jerk to everyone, but so goes sitting for two hours with an actually depressed person. If that's what you want to watch. --PolarisDiB
A man contemplating suicide, not the easiest mindset to get into. But here – as with Oslo, August 31st, the contemporary rendition of the same short novel – I had the feeling that I really "got it". Scary!
For some people, happiness is a very difficult thing. The movie is a melancholic exploration into the internal landscape of Alain Leroy, and is superbly acted every step of the way. Maurice Ronet is fascinating to watch, and Malle treats the plot as a disheveled empty room, each cast aside item slowly gazed upon.
So many scenes with wrong punctuations in dialogue, photography and and editing (typical feat in "french new wave") and in the end a depressingly mediocre movie about a subject that is close to my cold, black heart. It made me want to drink though and I finished a bottle of fine red wine while watching it. Fucking Oscars on TV... makes me want to shoot myself.
Deeper and deeper down into a man's soul. Malle's direction is elegant, he reveals the spaces of gray between light and shadow, and reflections in a mirror. At times the film resembles Antonioni, but it's warmer and more human, it's less about ideas and more about people, reaching out and searching. The ending is jarring, and while not unexpected packs an emotional wallop. I cared so much for Alain.
the thing is... i can't reach out with my hands. i can't touch things. and when i do touch things, i feel nothing.
« Tu refuses les certitudes parce qu’elles te font peur. Tu fais l’apologie de l’ombre parce que le soleil te blesse les yeux. »
I'll keep it real I can't relate you to "suicidees" out there. No offense, I just have an overwhelming sense of "survival" attitude in me that I can't actually kill myself it's not in my nature to have suicidal tendencies. Does that mean I'm better than you? Of course not...I probably say, "Fuck the world!" more times in a day than I've said, "Hello" on my cell phone. With that said, I CAN RELATE to the main character in this movie. Here is someone who wants to connect with friends, women, he longs to captivate them and have time stand still but when he touches them there's no feeling. It seems he was a lady's man when he was younger, is well off financially. But money hoes and cars don't mean shit when you can't relate to other fuckin human beings on this planet. I loved Jeanne Moreau's scenes in this. The things she says are just so poignant, poetic, and beautiful. I recommend this movie to all depressed suicidal people out there to watch all alone in solitude with a fuckin shotgun pointed at their brains, but don't forget about the suicide goodbye letter, keep it short but make it POETIC...just like the character in this film! 8 out of 10
This film gorgeous and shockingly clear. It was beautiful & heartbreaking to follow Alan Leroy (played magnificently by Maurice Ronet) in the last days of his life. He was an extremely honest character, and I feel like his story, or at least what he felt about his life and himself are feelings that i could truly relate to. Feelings that were distinctly human & tragic, and beautiful for that very reason.