Love's a bitch, then you die.
I was at first reminded of Double Suicide, it was passing. The gangster, the girl he abandoned on a park bench, still waiting, forever. When he finally returns, she has so ritualized his memory as he was that she doesn't recognize him as he is now. He is killed and she waits, eternally. The disfigured pop star, a recluse of her own vanity. The obsessed fan, his dysfunction and self-mutilation. Indirectly, he causes his own death and once again she is left alone, abandoned, to wait forever alone on a beach. Death and abandonment. This movie is about 'The Leashed Beggars'. The other two stories serve as balance and allow time for reflection, but the film's heart is the lives of two young lovers, forced apart by their parents and ambition. Is he filled with remorse or guilt? He is driven and resolute, kidnaps the girl he has ruined with no rational plan beyond his devotion to her. We see them waiting, silent. The story is non-verbal, a vacuum, pantomime. It could be told in 1922 as well as 2002 with little difference. The imagery is graphic and rich, powerful, romantic. A butterfly, a wall of pinwheels, cherry blossoms, a hat flying into the sea, roses, the snow. They are moving, slowly, trudging along towards an unknown destination. Do they travel through the seasons to their conclusion? At first, she is alien, but gradually, they are transformed into a strange, adapted couple, hopeless and unreal. The broken toy. Her crying is like a knife through the heart. She is as wounded as he is purposeful. His despair, her insanity. The camera work is simple, startling, beautiful. Long fixed shots, intense anticipation. Slow, purposeful, p e n s i v e tracking shots, unhurried, lingering. Brilliant weaving of flashback to the present, leading to the lucid moment when their eyes finally meet. In that instant their grief is unbearable. Consuming sadness. They are resigned to their fate. A woeful tale, Shakespearean, doomed.
I was at first reminded of Double Suicide, it was passing. The gangster, the girl he abandoned on a park bench, still waiting, forever. When he finally returns, she has so ritualized his memory as he was that she doesn't recognize him as he is now. He is killed and she waits, eternally. The disfigured pop star, a recluse of her own vanity. The obsessed fan, his dysfunction and self-mutilation. Indirectly, he causes his own death and once again she is left alone, abandoned, to wait forever alone on a beach. Death and abandonment. This movie is about 'The Leashed Beggars'. The other two stories serve as balance and allow time for reflection, but the film's heart is the lives of two young lovers, forced apart by their parents and ambition. Is he filled with remorse or guilt? He is driven and resolute, kidnaps the girl he has ruined with no rational plan beyond his devotion to her. We see them waiting, silent. The story is non-verbal, a vacuum, pantomime. It could be told in 1922 as well as 2002 with little difference. The imagery is graphic and rich, powerful, romantic. A butterfly, a wall of pinwheels, cherry blossoms, a hat flying into the sea, roses, the snow. They are moving, slowly, trudging along towards an unknown destination. Do they travel through the seasons to their conclusion? At first, she is alien, but gradually, they are transformed into a strange, adapted couple, hopeless and unreal. The broken toy. Her crying is like a knife through the heart. She is as wounded as he is purposeful. His despair, her insanity. The camera work is simple, startling, beautiful. Long fixed shots, intense anticipation. Slow, purposeful, p e n s i v e tracking shots, unhurried, lingering. Brilliant weaving of flashback to the present, leading to the lucid moment when their eyes finally meet. In that instant their grief is unbearable. Consuming sadness. They are resigned to their fate. A woeful tale, Shakespearean, doomed.