In Barbara, the process of filmmaking is shown to be a nesting series of shells that allow one to be simultaneously freed and lost.
Paris, Texas may be missing a crucial piece of authentic Americana, but it still evokes an America most Americans yearn to gaze on.
Paris, Texas belongs to the rare tradition of American art that actually fills me with nostalgic love for the sleepy Southwest.
There’s more to Akerman’s work in the ‘70s than Jeanne Dielman, even if that film continues to loom large over the period.
Colors are opulent and rich but the image never looks synthetic, thanks to a pleasant film-like graininess throughout.
It’s a gripping lark that finds Claude Chabrol lithely sorting through the serpentine snarl of bourgie behavior.
It’s French, it’s sexy, and Johnny Deep makes a cameo. Your female roommate will love it. Mine did!
Is Sylvie Testud playing Björk on the DVD cover? Shhhh.it’s oh so quiet.
It would be pure absurdism if Akerman’s detached logic didn’t make so much sense.
It demonstrates director Claire Denis’s signature obsession with the human body, cultural rifts and the permissions of sex.