Tsai Ming-Liang's first feature in five years is a mysterious and alienating series of tableaus about the fragility of flesh and the smallness of humanity.
From an interview with JLG at Cinemasparagus, regarding the director's preferred distribution and exhibition method for his latest (and allegedly last) feature, "Film socialisme," which premiered a few days ago at Cannes and which can be seen in its entirety, backwards and compressed into 67 seconds, above:
I really would have liked to have a boy and a girl be involved, a couple who had the urge to show things, who were kind of involved with the cinema, the sort of young people you might meet at small festivals. They'd be given a copy of the film on DVD, then be asked to train as skydivers. After that, places would be randomly chosen on a map of France, and they'd parachute down into those locations. They'd have to show the film wherever they landed. In a café, at a hotel... they'd manage. People would pay 3 or 4 euros to get in -- no more than that. They might film this adventure, and sell it later on. Thanks to them, you get a sense of what it means to distribute a film. Afterwards, only you can make the decision, to find out whether or not it's able to be projected in regular theaters. But not before having investigated everything for a year or two. Because beforehand, you're just like me: you don't know what the film is, you don't know what might be interesting about it. You've gone a little outside the whole media space.
(translation: Craig Keller; tip: girish)
This message came to me from a reader named Peter Svensland. He and a fr...
A new look at the role of hero and villain in Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner."
Part ten in Scout Tafoya's The Unloved series tackles "The Village."
White privilege, lived.