A London fashion photographer, out on a stroll, takes some casual shots of people in a park. When he blows up his prints he realizes he’s stumbled upon a murder. He begins to pursue the intriguing mystery that haunts him, with answers and the truth just out of reach…
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Revisit 3: Yes, amid so much meaninglessness--never an exclusively dismal nihility, but rather one often full of a puzzling sense of jubilance--there's nonetheless an immense deal of energy, spontaneity & diversion: an aggressive, somewhat cruel threesome, an impulsive purchase of a propeller, outbursts of erratic, childish behavior. But when the failure of purpose becomes altogether palpable, what's left is anguish.
Though he was already inarguably a giant of world cinema, one must concede that Antonioni made a discernible leap w/ BLOW-UP, and not just out of Italy or into the realm of the "popular." This is a movement from the implicitly metaphysical to the explicitly metaphysical. This is a leap into puzzle-logic and high-minded world-modeling. There is also the epistemological register: you blow things up and you get blur.
I think it has a great stylization and I loved the shots made in the car. The theme of the transference of alienation to an obsession with a photograph it's really good, and I was a lot creeped out by the "non-shape" of the amplified image. But this is not at all the Antonioni I fell in love with.
I think I'm condemned to this feeling of disappointment whenever I finish an Antonioni film. Yet again, in "Blow-up", we get some stunningly beautiful scenes (like the photoshoots in the studio and the park, and the imaginary game on the tennis court) but an overall impression that the film is being dragged towards its end without any sort of resolution or closure whatsoever. It's like there's a second part missing.
Antonioni could make masterpieces like this, or complete disasters like 'Zabriskie Point', because he didn't care that much about actors. "Actors are like cows. You have to lead them through a fence." The really successful ones had great actors who shone through despite the limitations. I cannot heap enough praise on Vanessa Redgrave. I can watch this one over and over.
Ce qui est étonnant, c'est que le manque de son est la force de ce film. Il est tout visuel donc on ne se concentre que sur ce qu'on voit, des photos, des costumes, et des couleurs. Le silence de ce film crie le plus. Malheureusement il ne me satisfait pas de la mystère, il y en a beaucoup à dévoiler.
This is the kind of film that I immediately fall in love with. Pure pop art, and totally atmospheric in its evocation of a hip, chic setting. It's a slow burn thriller, and nothing really happens to wrap things up, but I don't give a damn. This movie is so gorgeous to look at, and is such a fascinating time capsule, that I have a hard time not enjoying it deeply.
A difficult film to grasp, the kind that arrived nowhere veeery slowly. Confusing and disjointed, no atmosphere or ambiance. And I have absolutely no emotional attachment to the protagonist. I was never involved enough in it to actually care.