Four of Them

Don't know what I'm gonna do next.

And, so, anyways, my loves, I shall begin.


Pierrot le fou. A recent viewing, a kind gift/loan/whatever from CinemaScream, this I count as a musical for its two instances of random song, accompanied by spontaneous choreography and light piano. The saga of a bored married man, Ferdinand turned fugitive with a former flame, who decides to call him Pierrot, much to his chagrin. Always something of a farcical road movie, ending in a bit of tragedy, but still rather slapstick. Fantastic, mesmerizing (despite, as I assume ya'll know, shitty subtitles), surreal, colorful in that way only Godard in a good mood and the sixties can produce. Aided by the fanciful performance of Anna Karina and the half-lovestruck, half-bemused Jean-Paul Belmondo, an unexpectedly catchy song is performed by the two, that might've been an in-character way to pass celluloid had not been for the burst of music the background.



The other, a bouncy serenade from Karina to Belmondo in the beginning, is not as memorable, after you've gotten past the whole movie in between it and 'Ma ligne de chance', but while it lasts, it's pretty awesome.



And then, of course, there was:



I expressed all my feelings for this beautiful film here, but if ye need more, do take a look at 'Rozanne':



Penultimately,


Oh, I know. I could've picked Sweeney Todd, Rent, Chicago, the delightful Reefer Madness, even Hedwig and the Angry Inch, my love. But none of those have Marion Cotillard out-acting every other chump in the room, my favorite being this painfully vulnerablen number:



And, at last,



The epitome of heartbreaking, friends. It's a shame Lars von Trier terrorized Bjork into acting retirement, because she could've been great, okay? Here, she plays Selma, a single mother going blind and trying to make enough money to protect her son from the same fate. And she's amazing. She, her character, remains chipper past all her hardships (and, oh shit, are there many), an undeniably innocent character swallowed up by the vicious caricature of the American system von Trier paints, a victim of cirmumstance who is too nice for her own good. Her brutal fate is sealed by her unwavering optimism, it may seem, as evidenced in 'I've Seen It All', where her neighbor, vaguely-love interest asks her regrets:



And that is all, folks. Peace out.