Ligue de l'enseignement: Make for us an ethnographic film to broadcast in French schools to show students the benefits of the French educational mission in the West African colonies.
René Vautier: Fuck your funding. I'm engaging in praxis.
Metanarratives. A not so and yet still-superhero film with an amplified grandiloquence to boot. But in this instance, the auteur, long established as M. Night Shyamalan, precedes the auteurists in recuperating the film's aesthetics and politics. It should surprise no one that auteurism fits so well with contemporary neoliberal success narratives and Hollywood solipsism, of which this film is one example among many.
Ferrara’s most remarkable film because of its incompleteness, which due to the nature of the medium (in dissolves, cuts, ellipses), is a totality by omission. That Sandii is Pandora armed not with a box but a computer disc is an afterthought. What is truly disconcerting is the fusion between dream, memory, and video recording that permeates throughout the film. X’s recollections during the latter half of the film in particular constitute a cinematic stream of consciousness that I’ve only encountered…
I saw Pompeii to have a laugh at vulgar auteurists. But, my God, I didn't laugh. I saw a great deal that was strange, even stupid. But I also saw CGI that was delicate, almost too sensitive. A city washed through by the ocean and ravaged by fireballs. Impossible details. The earth fissured into catacombs. I felt as though I touched and heard the panic of doomed lives struggling with their fate. No sound came from their breasts as they embraced alone when the fire engulfed them. My God, I didn't laugh.