Word: amours
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Author Duras tells a story well-as she proved in the script for the film Hiroshima Man Amour-and her eye and ear are unfailingly good. Precisely what they are telling her is another matter. 10:30 is a murky book, but in its anti-worldly way it seems to be saying that the two groups of people-the three travelers on the one hand, the murderer and his two victims on the other-are equally inadequate and equally doomed. Both Maria and Pierre admire the murderer for the reckless fury of his act ("We could have arranged a good...
Last Year at Marienbad. The French New Wave, which has saltily subsided, nevertheless flung up the intellectual sensation of the year, a tour de force of cubistic cinema in which Director Alain Resnais (Hiroshima, Mon Amour) dismantles reality and reassembles it in a monstrous maze whose exit is its entrance...
...following the woman-it is almost impossible to tell because he, like she, seems in no hurry. The director (Michelangelo Antonioni? Alain Resnais? Federico Fellini? Francois Truffaut?) is definitely in no hurry. The movie (La Notte? L'Av-ventura? La Dolce Vita? Hiroshima, Mon Amour?) is 50 minutes long already, and still the woman is walking, the man is walking, and the only real involvement anywhere is occurring among people, who are not walking but sitting, scattered throughout the theater, nodding and telling each other how real, how honest, how truly artful...
Philosophically, Marienbad raises only cocktail questions. Nor has Resnais experimented with his medium, for he takes no real risks. On the basis of Hiroshima Mon Amour, interestingly enough, he was virtually assured of wide critical attention and box-office interest. A true risk, artistic or otherwise, never really takes the form of a publicity stunt...
Both men seem to have transcended their past careers with this picture, finding in each other just the proper complement to their own failings. Resnais gained great fame by directing Hiroshima, Mon Amour. In it, he showed all sorts of technical ability with flashbacks and composition, but he never seemed able to integrate this talent with Marguerite Duras' rather somnolent script. Robbe-Grillet, on the other hand wrote novels that yearned for visual expression. In La Jalousie, for instance, he spends most of his time painting in the very smallest details of a banana plantation. Amid the minutiae, the author...