Wild Reeds

basically doesn’t function as a political text except in a few moments of appreciated clarity (the oneiric punctuation by Pierre’s ghost of the Marxist teacher’s failure to serve her political ideals, Morelli’s wife immediately retreating into the car as a sobering reminder of the Algerian people whose material presence is excluded from these intellectual spaces) and several more of unfortunately facile liberal humanism. however, this decidedly does work as an impossibly sensuous account of youth’s relationship to time, wistfully documenting the ways we try to inscribe ourselves in a fixed moment, the ways we try to erase its passage by remaining in the past or hopelessly projecting a distant future, how the erasure of memory is both a violence and a mercy. the elastic play of aimless libidinal energies here achieves a complexity that most recent queer cinema can only dream of. essentially unrateable

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