This film is like a breath of fresh air into the cinematic eyes. Like Markopoulos, Beavers, Warhol, Snow or Straub, Rousseau is one of those names that every single person who like cinema, wait to see. It happened to me today, see these film and had the feeling that you are seeing primordial images (i call it primordial, because is a new gesture, it opens a brand new world for you).
An intensely painterly film intoxicated by the poetics of absence (solitaries, auditory static, obscured views, transient activities, ruins, mirrors) but wide awake with "an eye made quiet by the power of joy, as it sees into the life of things" (the pillows as they are lit up that create space!), all this in the midst of the static (that painful soundtrack!) of contemporary urban life