Word: mallee
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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The collaboration of Bardot and Moreau has evidently cost Malle a good deal of directorial control, and every inch of control sacrificed in Viva Maria! has blossomed into yards of artistic chaos.
I can't account for the anticlimax, where sequences build to such banal exchanges as: (Bardot) "If my father saw me in clothes like these!" (Moreau) "Hurry up! We're going to the dance!" Then the beginnings of an exit, such as you get on high-school stages when there...
The gratuitous shock seems to be Malle sporadically rebelling against the Pollyanna optimism of his genre, the happy go-lucky western. His compulsion to zoom in on open wounds, his close-ups of pock-marked faces, his pointless scrutiny of a knife-thrower accidentally wounding his apprentice: these all seem...
In the scenes between Moreau and Hamilton, she looks like a tiger, he like a saint, and it's disgusting. In their first carnal encounter she breaks into his prison cell where he stands crucified with ropes, rips off his shirt, and opens her blouse. We see their heads and...
I think Malle let his famous ladies run away with Viva Maria!, confident perhaps that with their names on marquees he wouldn't need much else. Without attacking self-indulgence as a theme, Malle's film reveals its own confusion and self-indulgence in an awkward attempt to deal with...