Rien d'autre que le néant figuratif de la vie. Le vol comme libération, ansi que la vacuité latente de tout un défilé chronologique de figures statiques qui vivent leur banalité, pour être seulement illuminées par st.michel. Ce n'est pas le visage qui se présente au plus haut degré, mais la choréografie magistrale de ces mains qui, sous la précision d'un compas musical, dansent dansent dansent...
Watching Bresson's film for the second time with Schrader's intro made the film even more sublime. Another post mentioned how weak the lead actor was and I disagree especially understanding the emphasis on humanity at its most subdued being synonymous with loss of identity or confusion. The whole film is an uphill battle amongst absurdity that finale's state of redemption takes on a spiritual quality. Masterpiece.
Close to perfect in Bresson's signature directing, you just have to checkout Bresson's ideas about film-making before appreciating his body of works. The "supermen who are above the law" dialogue was great, and I just love the emotion-less performances from actors, as well as the anti-climatic ending. Masterpiece.
"One does not create by adding but by taking away". Kindred spirits lie in Ozu to de Sica, Bresson's sparky but mundane depiction of a Parisian pickpocket is masterful. A film of grace, mundanity and ineffable beauty.
74 minutes of distance, meticulously maintained via Bresson's austere, measured restraint, edging the viewer towards an unwitting empathy if simply to fill in the emptiness, for one, final minute of transcendence. Not my favourite Bresson, but my god what a master! Hadn't clued in to his Dostoevsky allusions till this film made it obvious. The scenes with the three pickpockets pulling jobs were glorious. 4.5