Humanity-Antihumanity

Elenora 2022-03-25 09:01:14

It is almost a French literary film with the best sense of rhythm. There is no soundtrack and dialogue
. She's too greedy, though not entirely delusional, like 1/2 of the protagonist in Von Trier's melancholy, her ego is extremely fragile, and it's true that people always want to be loved, but the throbbing passages aren't too moving, when enough freedom of action and heart has been given What do you still want. . .
Can you love yourself the most and love Zinzu more people who have to hurt you so much in order to be loved and experienced? Abandoned again and again, picked it up and abandoned it just because I was too afraid of losing
, and such a complex and simple relationship would be better if it became Sartre-
Beauvoir The interaction of the characters outlines a kind of free-spirited grief that Truffaut likes a
lot

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Extended Reading
  • Reginald 2022-03-23 09:02:39

    1. An acute angle becomes an isosceles triangle. The isosceles become equilateral again. The last two sides fell into the rapids of life, leaving only a lone line. The heroine is absent from the title, but is everywhere. 2. When Truffaut took the lead, Godard was far beyond his reach. Both technically and conceptually. Godard's pioneer, always a little bit of a kid's play. But Truffaut, he makes you think that his presumptuousness and pessimism are real. 3. What I think is great and what I don't like are the fast-paced editing and the reliance on literary narration. It is very contradictory, and both sides are mixed. 4. Three memorable passages that no one else mentions: the watch on the ankle; the angel also flies by at 40 minutes (this line happens to be at 40 minutes of the movie); Katherine kissing with Zhan, on the window The insect shadow seemed to burrow into her mouth with the kiss.

  • Heloise 2022-03-30 09:01:06

    Is the combination of two men and one woman the new Eden of the French in the 1960s? There is no debauchery, but casual behavior, as if the whole cultural atmosphere is like this. She wanted to create an alternative ideal of love, a parallel practice of pacifism (feminism, communism). As in these utopias, "we play with the source of life and fail," and, like Jules, the simple and the ardent will live on.

Jules and Jim quotes

  • Jules: Albert was wounded in the war. In the trenches.

    Albert: I'm all right now, but when I woke up and saw the doctors probing inside my skull, I thought of Oscar Wilde. "O Lord, spare me the physical pain. I can cope with the spiritual pain."

  • Jules: What's appalling about war is that it deprives man of his own individual battle.

    Jim: Yes, but I think he can wage his battle outside the field of war. I'm thinking of a gunner I met in the hospital. Returning from leave, he met a girl on the train. They talked from Nice to Marseilles. Stepping down onto the platform, she gave him her address. He wrote her frantically from the trenches every day for two years on bits of wrapping paper, by candlelight. As bombs rained down, his letters became ever more intimate. At first it was "Dear Miss" and "Yours truly." But the third letter he called her "My little lamb" and asked for her picture. Then it was "My adorable lamb." Then "I kiss your hand." Then "I kiss your forehead." Later he described the picture she'd sent and wrote of her breasts, which he thought he glimpsed under her robe. Soon he was addressing her intimately. "I love you terribly." One day he wrote to her mother, asking for the daughter's hand. He became her fiancé without ever seeing her again. As the war continued, his letters became even more intimate. "I make you mine, my love. I caress your adorable breasts. I press your naked body against mine." When she replied rather coldly, he was enraged and begged her not to flirt with him, for he could die at any time, and he was right. You see, Jules, to understand this extraordinary seduction by mail, you have to have known the violence of trench warfare, that collective madness where death is present every moment. So here's a man who took part in the Great War yet managed to wage his own individual battle at the same time and win a woman's heart through long-distance persuasion.

    [to Albert]

    Jim: Like you, he had a head wound when he arrived at the hospital, but he wasn't as lucky as you. He died after surgery on the eve of the Armistice. In his last letter to the fiancée he hardly knew, he wrote, "Your breasts are the only bombs I love."