antonioni

I can't tell you many tiny little mini-scenes - devoid of dialogue - have permanently wormed there way into my consciousness. I can't be standing underneath a tree at midnight, as the wind loudly rustles the leaves, and not think of those park scenes in Blow Up. Or, the sound of clanging of ropes against flagpoles instantly transports me to that little shot in L'Eclisse where the Vitti character is running along after her friend as the flagpoles do just that...

actually, I should qualify that "weird-ass modernism" thing; modernist architecture strikes me as anything but weird -- the cellular structure and all that. But with Antonioni it's all in the framing; that's the thing -- he makes the mundane seem weird by isolating certain of its aspects. Like in that shot mentioned above, i'm assuming it's some standard multi-level living structure, but he frames the character standing on the roof in a cutaway -- this guy standing atop this strange geometric shape pointing at the sky -- which really just sort of emphasizes the odd character of contemporary life and our relationship with our physical envirmonment.

I mean, there's a laundry list of memorable scenes where he does this -- in Il Grido (those weird-ass spool things. wtf?), in the Red Desert stuff I mentioned, in La Notte when the Moreau character goes off by herself to explore the city .. even the relatively poor Zabriskie Point is just FILLED with this shit .. the Rauschenbergesque framings when the lead male character flees the campus and drives his truck through the city, the silly interlude with the development firm that "Daria" works for, and of course that odd cottage which explodes in a Wonder Bread frenzy at the end..

Fuck, I dunno .. Yeah, I love the guy for his striking imagery above all. But I do think in that halting dialogue, that inability to communicate -- he presents a sort of alternate "depth of character". or something.

yes, i agree completely. to some extent, this is what most art does. more specifically, i think antonioni is good at exploting the geometries of urban architecture in ways that render them unfamiliar (often excitingly so)..

ozu is another who does this. he manages to make even the most mundane office building strange and beautiful. in fact, when i saw an inn in tokyo (1935), with its boldly framed shots of hulking, derelict industrial equipment in a barren suburban landscape, i thought "antonioni!"

Formed thoughts forthcoming. I didn't think about my fingernails -- I can say that much already. The music was quite sticky.

london has an antonioni season on now. because of soime fuxoring american cousins who have decided to ruin my life, i'm missing half of it, but i did see 'la notte' saturday. i love antonioni.

but they aren't showing 'the passenger'. for some crazy reason, presumably rights-related, they could only show it IF MICHELANGELO HIMSELF ATTENDED. needles to say, this didn't happen.

I know I'm prone to gushing and over-effusion sometimes on these boards, but really, it was so very, very good.

I put off watching The Passenger for a long time ('cause Zabriskie Hurts) and when I finally saw it a few years ago I was completely blown away -- I need to see it again

I still haven't dared to see Zabriskie Point.

I also can't believe the Malaga scenes at the end of the film - that town is such a horrible tourist pit now. It actually used to look classy (or at least peaceful, in a desolate sort of way).

You can see the camera operator reflected in the french window. The man must be a brute.

(i don't know how much of a difference those extra six or something minutes they put back in really makes, though)

I haven't seen the early stuff in eons.

Forgot to look for this. I did notice the first time Jack says "What the fuck are you doing with me?" (under the tree), it's clearly dubbed as his lips aren't moving, which suggests it was done to make the line resonate in the last hotel scene.

Second time I'd seen The Passenger (first since mid to late '80s); hadn't remembered hardly anything but the famed next-to-last shot ... I do think it stands with Blowup at a minimum; i'll probably work my way backwardish through his oeuvre now. Nicholson's probably never given a more somber and natural performance, even in his '69-75 Arthouse Bogart run (which this capped). I though Maria Schneider was speaking English phonetically, but her movements seem similarly stilted (when she puts her hand on Jack's shoulder, elbow stiff).

My brain was asleep early on -- what was Jack burning in his yard in the flashback, besides tree limbs, if anything?

I thought that was the reflection of the assassain.

I see Ebert upgraded the pan from his original review, so he is getting smarter (in some cases).

Still, I wanna see it again.