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.
If his four previous films were about not being seen, Blow-Up is Antonioni's study of seeing everything. (And yet still not seeing?) At first I hated the pace, found the main character stupid and repulsive, didn't understand the casting. Then about 40 minutes in everything clicked and I was entranced. Antonioni does it again.
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 really liked the implicit and slow moving character of this film, as well as the lack of resolve. The main character, in photographer fashion, doesn't seem to force events around him, rather he is aptly portrayed as an observer of the strange phenomena occurring around him. His apathy is contagious.
Given how well-chosen the metaphors are, it's really unfortunate that this is such a dry film lacking a basic engine to keep things moving. I think it's useful as a tool for abject artistic inspiration the same way I think a thesaurus might be useful when one needs a better word for describing a concept. But I don't go to thesauruses for emotional or intellectual fulfillment, nor have I found it in this film.
An interesting and stylish look into the world of a fashion photographer and his obsession for his work. Though I didn't love this film as much as I had expected, Antonioni's mise en scène is definitely worthwhile. There are some moments of roaring silence which draws emphasis on the main character's alienation.
england is shown at the height of its dreary style. the movie is shot like it's a glossy spread in a high-fashion mag. visually superb. story-wise: there's no story. nada happens, which is okay in itself. when you consider other factors, not so much; the guy who plays the photographer is devoid of any verve, wit, humanity, chutzpah, label it whatever, until the final sequence (the mimes play tennis in the park).