This essential box set gathers nine films from the first decade of one of cinema’s greatest artists.
Akerman’s magnum opus remains one of the definitive showcases of cinematic structuralism.
The doc is an attempt to capture something of Akerman’s infectious spirit and thirst for worldly experience.
For Akerman, there can be no home, there can be no movie, and there certainly cannot be a combination of the two.
How wonderful it is to watch a film that pays attention to life’s finer textures.
Almost out of necessity, White finds a particularly prominent motif throughout Haynes’s work: a fascination with the out-of-line family.
Check out which films feel shy of making our list of the greatest films of the 1990s.
Almayer’s Folly is a story of waxing and waning forces.
It’s the warping, re-signifying logic of affect and memory that architected this list.
This Is Not a Film is a masterpiece aching with expected pain and unexpected laughter.
As unburdened, freely (dis)associative works, it’s barking up the wrong tree to assign meaning to a film by Nathaniel Dorsky.
Almayer’s Folly is a work of engulfing jungles and rivers, vehement and incantatory speeches, and piercing female gazes in front of and behind the camera.
Who else knows what we’ve been fighting over better than B. Ruby Rich?
The best special effect in Danny Boyle’s hectic, ultimately tension-dispersing latest is James Franco’s performance.
Taken in total, these Akerman films have only whetted my appetite for more from her scattered, mysterious career.
There’s more to Akerman’s work in the ’70s than Jeanne Dielman, even if that film continues to loom large over the period.
The film’s form overshadows its debt to reportage as most would understand the term.
From the East is the perfect way to ride that fine line between watching a movie and dazing with it.
Own Jeanne Dielman if you must. Just don’t fall asleep on her bed.
I leapt at the chance to send a few questions, via e-mail, to Chantal Akerman on the film itself and on working with Delphine Seyrig.