Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

If you have a thing for black-and-white French films that feel like they were filmed in someone’s dusty attic, then sure, dive in. It’s definitely for the patient viewer who doesn't mind a story that wanders off the path. If you need pacing, clear stakes, or, you know, a plot that makes sense by the halfway mark, you’re probably going to hate it. 🤷♂️
It’s not exactly Nous ne sommes plus des enfants, but it has that same kind of weird, slightly melancholic energy. Sometimes the film just stops to let a character look out a window for way too long. I found myself checking my phone, then looking back up, and they were still just standing there. It's almost hypnotic, or maybe just lazy.
There's a scene near the middle where a conversation happens in a cafe that feels like it lasts for an eternity. The audio crackles just enough to remind you that this isn't exactly high-budget stuff. You can almost hear the gears of the camera whirring in the background if you turn your volume up. It’s kind of charming, in a low-stakes way.
The performances are... well, they're definitely performances. Jean Tissier has this way of blinking that makes him seem like he’s trying to solve a math equation in his head while delivering his lines. It’s distracting, but in a funny way. I kept waiting for him to break character, but he never did. Dedicated, I guess.
The whole thing feels a bit like watching The Sophomore if it had been directed by someone who had just read a bunch of existential poetry. It's trying to be deep, but it usually ends up being just a bit strange. It doesn't quite reach the heights of something like Zemlya zhazhdet, but it has its moments of weird, accidental beauty.
At the end of the day, it's a movie that exists. It happened. I watched it. Maybe you will too. 🎞️
Year
1935
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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