An empily staring terminator of raw disposition (eine Rohnatur). Still, every word Yoav utters – when he repeats French vocabulary on a walk through the streets, poses questions from the language course to the orchestra, tells stories fuelled by his fascination for masculinity and war – is poetry. He himself is: art or rubbish? The yellow coat that Yoav’s patron has supplied him with withdraws from any possibility of evaluation, flees from categories, blissfully and in slalom-like figures. Gunshots to a French pop song, celebrating a sandwich while dancing in a club with another ... consumer. Yoav: the human who aspired to be a Frenchman, the madman who wanted to become a prophet, but who was tortured by the gap between Paris and himself.
15th January 2020
In 2018, Serebrennikov has introduced an appropriate use of musical scenes in movies. Their unrealistic nature that brings any spectator-character identification to a sudden halt and catapults viewers out of the narrative is facilitated here to tell tales of micro-forms of restistance that have, in fact, never occured. Fuelled by the spirit of America’s early 1980s – Bob Dylan, Iggy Pop, David Bowie – and the Sex Pistols, tram and train passengers tune in on the hymns that represent to them the liberation from the Soviet state. America, the old guilty mother, is again assigned the false and deceptive role of a liberating force. The music – it’s Kino’s lyrics, after all – is utterly captivating; the dress surprisingly atemporal for a period piece.
A passage that beautifully reminded me of my current thoughts on thoughts:
01:29:52,058 --> 01:30:53,328
We both know how it could sound. But this is not about sound. You've just gotta record these songs. Release them, let go. It's bad, sad for the songs if they stay stuck in your head. Damn it, let them out, and be done. You don't like the sound. When the kids scream your songs in the hallways, that'll make a sound. Just think about it. You don't like the way your album sounds, that's a beautiful problem. Problems like this are rare. You’re lucky. Enjoy.
Well then. Stop whining.
20th December 2019
You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet (2012)
01:09:54,257 --> 01:11:17,247
Death ... has one quality that no one knows about. lt is good. Terribly good. lt is afraid of tears, of pain. Whenever it can, whenever life allows it to, it moves quickly. But life clings on obstinately like a fool, even if the game is up, even if a man can't move or is disfigured, even if he has to go on suffering. Death alone is a friend. With the tip of its finger, it delivers, it soothes.
l'd rather have Eurydice disfigured, suffering, old! Your so-called friend stole Eurydice from me.
With the tip of its finger, it withered Eurydice. Young, happy Eurydice, smiling Eurydice ... lt'll return her to you.
Right away. But listen carefully ... Your happiness was over anyway. Those twenty-four hours, that's all your dear life had in store for little Orpheus and Eurydice. You wouldn't be weeping now for the dead Eurydice, but for a Eurydice who had fled.