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6.9/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.9/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Brumes d'automne remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have twelve minutes and you're feeling a bit melancholy, then yeah, definitely watch this. You’ll probably hate it if you need things like 'dialogue' or 'a plot that makes sense,' but if you just want to soak in a mood, it’s perfect.
It’s one of those movies that feels like a long sigh. You know the feeling when you’re looking out a window and you realize you’ve been staring at the same spot for ten minutes? That is this movie.
Nadia Sibirskaïa has one of those faces that just looks like it was designed for silent cinema. She doesn't have to do much. She just looks at a piece of paper and you can feel the weight of whatever was written on it.
The whole thing starts with her burning letters. It’s a classic trope, sure, but the way Kirsanoff shoots the stove is weirdly intimate. You can almost smell the old paper and the smoke in that tiny room.
There is so much mud in this movie. Like, real, thick, nasty-looking mud that sticks to everything. It makes the whole world feel heavy and cold.
I really loved the shot of the umbrella reflecting in a puddle. It’s a bit showy, maybe, but it works because the whole film is basically just about how water changes everything it touches. It reminded me a bit of the atmosphere in Raindrops, though this feels much more personal and lonely.
The way the letters curl up in the fire is mesmerizing. You see the handwriting for a split second before it turns black and disappears. It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of thing that makes you think about all the stuff you’ve thrown away yourself.
There’s a moment where she looks out at the trees, and they’re all bare and shivering. It’s not exactly subtle symbolism, but I don't care. Sometimes you just want a movie to tell you that autumn is sad and let you sit with that for a bit.
The pacing is kinda all over the place, honestly. Some shots of the rain go on for what feels like forever, and then suddenly we’re cutting back to her face and she’s moved across the room. It’s a little jarring, but it feels like how memory works—jumpy and uneven.
I noticed a stray hair falling across her forehead in one close-up that nobody bothered to fix. I liked that. It felt real, like she’d been sitting there for hours and didn't give a damn how she looked anymore.
Compared to something massive like The Last Days of Pompeii, this is tiny. But I think I prefer the tiny things sometimes. There’s no spectacle here, just a woman and her regrets.
The music—if you watch the version with the sound—is usually some violin stuff that tries a bit too hard. I actually think it’s better if you watch it in total silence. You can almost hear the rain hitting the glass anyway.
There is a shot of a leaf floating in a puddle that lingers for way too long. It’s almost funny how much Kirsanoff wants you to look at that leaf. But by the time it finally drifts out of frame, you’re weirdly invested in where it’s going.
It’s not a 'masterpiece' in the way people usually use that word to sound smart. It’s just a very good mood piece that doesn't overstay its welcome. It’s over before you can get bored, which is a rare gift in 1920s experimental stuff.
If you're in the mood for something like The Woman and the Beast, this is the opposite of that. No monsters here except for maybe the memories in those letters.
I kept wondering who wrote those letters to her. The movie doesn't tell you, and honestly, it shouldn't. The fact that we don't know makes it feel like they could be letters anyone sent to anyone.
The ending is just... quiet. It doesn't wrap anything up or give you a big emotional release. She just exists, and the rain keeps falling, and then the screen goes black.
It’s a bit of a bummer, but a beautiful one. Highly recommended for a rainy Tuesday afternoon when you have no plans and a lot on your mind.
Go watch it. Or don't. But if you do, make sure it's dark in the room. It helps with the immersion.
IMDb —
1919
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