The Double Life of Véronique

The Double Life of Véronique ★★★★★

"all my life i've felt like i was here and somewhere else at the same time."

chain reaction challenge // (11/100)

recommended by: henri
recommend me a film here

(part of my films i've written poetry for list)

(part of my pinned reviews list)

(krzysztof kieslowski - ranked)

(part of my priority watchlist of 2020)

(top favorite first watches of 2020)

i don't know exactly how to speak on this film in a way that could truly express just how much of a masterpiece i feel it is. this piece is what you would find if you carved up my heart into little pieces and ran it through a film projector. the emotional depth and capability of feeling that this film has knows no bounds. it's extraordinary. it's special. it feels personal, it feels like mine, like something inside my own soul that i couldn't touch until i saw it displayed visually (with some of the prettiest and most alluring cinematography that i will ever have the pleasure of having burned into my brain). if i could make a film to speak without words, this is what i would create. this is what i hope to be able to produce someday. i just hope i can find a way to do that, to do it like this. véronique has inspired me like almost nothing has before. it also feels like a sister film to amélie. the more organic, more authentic, more raw B-side you'd get if you flipped the vinyl over. don't get me wrong, i love amélie. but where amélie is all aflutter and happiness, this film is its counterpart in wistfulness and depression. and that really makes more of an impression on me. i can really respond to this unquenchable, never-ending feeling of being sad, and of being alone. i couldn't be more thankful for watching this at the exact right moment in my life. the weight of sadness is suffocating, even when it's gentle.

this film is everything, every word i can conjure up. it's graceful, elegant, beautiful, eloquent, mournful, sullen, aloof, tender. it's birthed from the shadows, like the most beautiful of chiaroscuro paintings. only stepping out into the light here and there; shy fleeting glances and it's gone again. it's sensual, it's lonely. god, is it lonely.. beautifully aching, restless, searching. this film is like continuously wanting something you can't find, like reaching out for something you can't quite touch. i think it is so successful in creating an emotional landscape to get lost in, wrapped up in. it's a dreamlike, otherworldly, gorgeous depiction of what it's like to be a lost soul. and the themes it explores of mysteriousness are key to its impact as well. perhaps its narrative is very confusing, yes. i, too, found myself mystified in this regard. but when i think about it in its broadest terms, it comes down to the mood it creates. and it's about never truly being alone, even when we think we are. that's lovely, and it actually gives me a lot of hope. we all have people in the world that are "ours"; our family, our friends, our loved ones. and this film is saying that we have other people who are ours; the ones we haven't met yet, the ones of our future. the ones who are out there waiting to claim us as their own, too. and that's an insanely wonderful concept to ponder. i could rewatch this endlessly and still have the biggest heart eyes ever for it. it's poetry in motion. and, speaking of poetry..

absence, space,
whiskey glass on my mind.
shadows, face,
hearts twice intertwined.
i see you all the time,
i see you in my dreams.
i see you in the photographs
only my loneliness can bring.

nostalgic double window panes,
foggy, with a mist.
softer sadness linger pains,
i can't speak on what i miss.
something is amiss,
i feel it, but
cannot say.
the moment that i pinpoint you
is when you go away.
i feel cold in the warmth
of a melancholy day.
summer kisses fall
and winter's born the next day.
you're the needle in the hay,
the stack in which we play.
you're forever in my heart,
only disconnected by a flay.

slumber parties with the fairies,
the magic in our mind.
intergalactic alien girls,
at least we're the same kind.
i find it hard to find,
i find it hard to grasp.
i'm under the evil witch's spell,
i'm caught inside her trap.
tree trunks drip with sap,
quiet forests filled with maps.
leaves crumple on the path,
souls overlap with the same snap.
a deafening,
a reckoning.
a threatening,
a beckoning.
pixie wings, diamond rings and
the deadening.
i'd remember my heart
dying,
becoming, twisting, turning in
to a deadened thing..

wouldn't i?

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