quarta-feira, 23 de janeiro de 2019

Depois de tantos recordarem Jonas Mekas-cineasta, recordar Jonas Mekas-crítico com o seu texto sobre Une femme douce, um dos mais bonitos que conheço em torno de um filme de Bresson.

«Here is what I thought, walking home from "Une femme douce".
"Une femme douce" is a film about diagonals. Diagonal angles, diagonal glances. About eyes that never really meet. A film without a single frontal shot. A film about three-quarter spaces. About the sound of closing doors. About the sound of footsteps. About the sound of things. About the sound of water. About shy glances. About unfinished glances. About the sound of glass. About death in our midst. About light falling on faces. About lights in the dark, falling on faces. About blood on the forehead. About unfinished playing records. About a white crêpe blouse. About blue. About flowers picked and never taken home. About the roaring of cars. About the roaring of animals. About the roaring of motorcycles. About green. About how life and death intercut with each other. About hands giving and taking. About hands. About bourgeois pride. About pride. About lights on the door. About lights behind the door. About doors opening and closing. About bourgeois jealousy. About jealousy. About lamps turned out. About brown and yellow. About yellow. About indirect glances. About glances. About one peaceful glance (in the gallery, Schaeffer?). About unfinished records. About doors opening and closing. About doors opening very gently. About a half-opened door. About people standing behind glass doors and looking in. About fool's hope. About hopes. About a window which doesn't lead into life. About a red car seat. About a red shop window. About standing behind a door, looking in. About a green bed and green curtains. About a happy smile in the mirror, at oneself. About eyes which do not look even when asked. About the sound of metal. About sleep. About two diagonal lives.»
Une femme douce (1969), Robert Bresson


segunda-feira, 14 de janeiro de 2019

"Não se mexe nas coisas, ai ai ai!", gritou para o ecrã uma menina dos seus 3 anos, a dois lugares ao meu lado, enquanto esta cena passava na sessão de ontem da Cinemateca Júnior. Ó-pá...

Yoyo (1965), Pierre Étaix

quarta-feira, 9 de janeiro de 2019

Filmar a ausência

Não tinha ainda visto o Ida e gostei particularmente deste momento, com a secura da câmara e inexpressão da montagem diante a saída de cena (e do mundo) de uma personagem. Nenhum drama, nenhuma hesitação, e ao mesmo tempo a tremenda indiferença com que o sujeito filmado dá o derradeiro salto, feito com a maior naturalidade, deixando o espectador de olhos fixos no céu. Nenhum plano subjectivo durante a queda, nenhum corte para o chão no seu fim, nada. É a sensação fixa de vazio do quarto que permanece. Filmar a ausência é qualquer coisa como isto.

La meglio gioventù (2003), Marco Tullio Giordana
Ida (2013), Pawel Pawlikowski