I feel like this is probably a great film. I just don’t feel it in the right way. After the captivating “L’Avventura” and the surprise greatness of “La Notte” (surprise because it’s said to be the lesser of the loose trilogy) I was disappointed by this one’s inability to grab me, or at least intrigue me the way the others had. Needs a revisit sometime down the line.
Re-view. 16mm. Was Red Desert not the 4th of a quartet? Doesn't matter. We get it. More post-war bourgeois malaise, frosty isolation, ignorance, pretension. Still, I was glued- Antonioni's ability to turn objects into symbols, specifically in the first chamber; the crops with sexy finger touch, Vitti declaring "books, table, chair, man" as all the same- here, in cinema, everything in frame is to be tasted. Delicious.
Full of beauty and distraction this ennuis film tells its audience most things indirectly - though the events around the lovers. From the scenes at the fetishised and tempestuous stock exchange to the open skies of an air field there is a sense of proportion - of things beyond the self. The final shots emphasise the absence of a relatable subject in the minute perpetuity of existence faced with immanent nuclear war.
Filmin çekimlerine, kullanılan mekanlara yani kısacası Antonioni'nin yönetmenliğine hayran kalsam da konunun işleniş biçimini sevmedim. Film bana geçmedi, dışarısında kaldım karakterlerin ve duyguların, anlatılmak istenenin. Yönetmenin isteği bu doğrultuda muhtemelen ama bir seyirci olarak tatmin olamadım doğrusu tam anlamıyla. Görsel açıdan bir başyapıt gerçekten de, o ayrı. 4.5/5
The boldest and most dense of Antonioni's trilogy on modernity and its discontents - L'Ecllise is a visual masterpiece about the scarcity of emotion in a world devoid of feeling and depth. The lack of substance is the substance of the film. The ending is a microcosm for the entire film: surrounding the absence of our characters, we see an empty shell of existence. It's not about what's there, it's what isn't there.
“The sun’s diameter is about 401 times larger than that of the moon, the sun is also 401 times farther from Earth". Scientists sure spread more macaroni than any Italian ever could. Antonioni’s Eclipse merses implausibility even further, with Delon and Vitti’s dermatologic duomachy syzygyzing their Elysian statuses by drawing paralipsic circumflexes above 'inaction' until it becomes the object. Love could be nothing.