the reckoning of a life at the end of it, plastered on the screen in the most showmanship driven fashion, but not so much as to take away from the apology if it can be called that. fosse’s grandiose self-portrait damns himself while aggrandizing the canvas on which he paints his brassy cinematic goodbye with the most fosselike farewell he could dream. it’s all that jazz and then some.
the back and forth of desperation and loneliness, hand in hand, toying with the other like a dance. an understanding of a physicality left uninhibited, total in its purity but spiked by its effects. short glimpses through doorways into some wanderers with nothing left to give as a farewell from a monument. glad he was able to put this out and say what he wanted. spoken through the doorway.