2.5* Resnais doesn't give a damn about the mechanics of time travel, hence the complete disinterest and potato/couch machine, and that's cool because he can really throw a linear narrative out the window but NOTHING he explores is as interesting as watching him play with genre conventions and time.
Je t'aime, je t'aime is an interesting essay on memory and time, two topics Resnais often contemplates on in his films. While this particular movie shares some characteristics that can be traced down his oeuvre, it's also quite distinct due to its editing. The latter turns it into a compelling meta-reflection on the powers of cinema itself.
Ah, Resnais once again plundering the mind-vault of an untapped literary resource (Jacques Sternberg, scenarist). T'was his thing. Canny of him. Anyhoo: we are dealing here w/ the most high-concept of ridiculous sci-fi conceits, and we are dealing w/ Resnais, so we are, by default, dealing in absurdity and melancholy. Cool. The power of the form makes forgivable the absurd machinations intended to make it palatable.
An excuse to shoot a story without any linearity. It lacks all the profound meditation on time and memory of "Hiroshima", "Marienbad" or "Muriel" ("Muriel" being one of Resnais' most underlooked and complex films). The ending has some sense of tragedy and the final shot has a powerful metaphorical resonance. That's about it.
DOES ANYBODY know the name of the piece from the scene where they sit and listen to a vinyl? Starts off with blaring industrial sounds but then moves into lush orchestra. Don't think its Penderecki. You can also hear it 55 seconds into this trailer: https://vimeo.com/85986298
Catrine: sem documentos, emprego, família ou amigos, tudo por opção; triste, eternamente triste; a inventar expressões que não existem, como dizer que tem "terror", em vez de dizer que tem medo; adora o sol mas não pode vê-lo porque não consegue parar de pensar que ele vai deixar de existir;