"I sit by the window and look out completely in vain. For years and years I've been sitting there, and something always tells me that I'll go mad the next moment. But I don't, and I have no fear, because fear of madness would mean that I'd have to cling to something. Yet, I don't cling to anything. I cling to nothing, but everything clings to me."
I didn't get it. at times it seems like it's trying to be noir, at others an existential meta-romance. it establishes a structure only to abandon it completely. it's got a problem with balancing image with dialogue. it just feels like tarr was experimenting more than trying to make a concise piece, to me. it is a beautifully made film and has got such a spot-on ending, though.
I was a big admirer of Béla's work, until I rewatch this film yesterday and everything collapsed. Resisting until the end was a painful and boring experience. Why? Travellings and more travellings (always the same movement, very slowly and at first unfocused until get to the character), pocket philosophy and the most annoying music (like Straub said about this useful use, "one more brush").
re-rating. What almost 10 years ago seemed to be of an unusual order and density, now, again a film projection, appeared to be rhetorical and of a tiring dynamic thinking, constantly reiterated and underlined - the dialogues are, mostly, illustrative. The slow traveling shots that seemed to be builders of a mental space are now redundant and mere reiterative descriptors of a narrative processuality.