Friday Night

The traffic jam sequence alone stands as an amazing and lyrical study of the rhythms of stop and start driving. The two lovers are so anchored in the magnetism of the present. This movie is a homage to human nature, and sexual attraction consummated. Also, I absolutely love that the film accepts and cherishes the moment as the lovers do. It's very French.

Claire Denis' films may look slick to the jaundiced American audiences, since many fashion and advertising makers employ devices that create Denis-esque effects. Beau Travail was unfortunately evocative of Bruce Webers' damp pretty man ad campaigns and books, yet the power of the film remained when the memory of the packaging had faded.

This film was beautiful to my innocent eye, as it wistfully, abstractly spreads out night-time Paris as a diorama into which drivers and passengers are thrown during a harrowing transit strike. The intimacy that occurs in the film between strangers is intensely depicted - close close close and the camera - as with Beau Travail - is genius. The film made me sad to consider the sense of loneliness inside of that city and my own during the night, yet I am pleased to have seen such a lovely rendering of that idea. I saw the film last night and the pictures are still downloading inside today, my mark of great films.

Finally, THANK YOU Claire Denis for never being ponderously intellectual during appearances and for not feeling that you need 3 hour films to make art. This film - in less than 90 minutes - is more profound than any of the 3 hour French films made.

This film resists all that is wrong with blockbuster cinema, totally refusing to offer straight-forward, passivity-inducing narrative structures. It is one of the most book-like films you are likely to see, taking its time to develop the central characters in manner that leaves them open to determination by the audience's imagination. It is an erotic film that has no climax. It is a film that engages in life rather than distracts us from it.

This is an immensely subtle film that uses a broad range of cinematic techniques so you should definitely see it on a big screen. In fact, I wouldn't even bother seeing it on TV, so diminished would its impact be.

This movie is not for the sort of casual movie-goer who must have a plot driven, dialogue heavy entertainment vehicle in order to be satisfied. This film is typical Denis: intensely visual, with sparse dialogue and a very minimal plot.

The premise of the film is a simple one. A woman about to move in with her lover is caught in a traffic jam during a Paris transit strike. She picks up a stranger, and they have a one-nighter.

The film's focus is the little things that make up sexual attraction, the situations, the glimpses, the attitudes, the predilections, etc. It manages to present this in an almost completely visual way without ever becoming dull, pretentious, or difficult to watch. The film has a minute logic to it which manages to pull the viewer along from scene to scene using humor, suspense, and a good deal of empathy for the central character.

This film invites one to reflect on the way in which sex relates to the variety of life's anxieties: anxieties over self-image, anxieties over one's future, anxieties over one's significance, etc. It also provides an interesting vantage point from which to view the over-romanticized over-serious status that sex is given in main-stream American cinema.

Go to this film with the intent of viewing a wonderful piece of art. There is some work required on the viewer's part, but it's worth the effort.

I guess that I must be living under a rock because it took me this movie to bask in the luminescence of Claire Denis (and Agnes Godard). I stumbled across Beau Travail in the beginning of my cinephile journey and her baroque images and elliptical editing style just flew past my head. Then, I saw 35 shots of rum a few years back and it did make me sit up, especially "The Nightshift" sequence, but I still felt that her magic lacked a dramatic gravity.

But this film just blew me away. This is poetry of a heightened experience so ephemeral and intense that it is remembered in fractured glances and gestures, in hazy motives and unclear desires, in actions that are incomplete ellipses, in the associations and impressions of the surroundings that stand in as a placeholder of the actual experience.

Highly recommended.