Femmes femmes ★★★★★

women left behind by the world (and by art) performing their lives long after they’ve ceased to be able to live them. ambient decay and spilled wine, a doctor who looks sicker than his patients and a mother left with a headless doll to raise in place of a daughter. headshots of actresses line the walls, their gazes averted such that they might appear demure in another context, but Vecchiali’s intercutting uncovers something vulnerable and embittered underneath the layers of fashionably caked-on makeup and soft focus. rituals of numbing, empties arranged like little shrines in holy rites of loathing. maybe it’s easier to talk about the bats and the lizards and incomparably more difficult to write about Helene washing Sonia’s legs or trying to refill a full glass while Sonia screams

"Happy end! Happy end! Happy end! Happy end! Happy end!"

"I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!"

Eva liked these reviews