The last romantic.
Staggering into the 20th century.
We would like to think it was Brahms, but no…1897.
It is perhaps more like Rachmaninov.
You will get the better recordings with that spelling.
Staggering into the 20th century with a morose remembrance.
Born in 1873. Died in 1943.
To be 41 when WWI started.
We don’t know with which powers we are fooling.
And so the only way to watch Max Ophüls’ masterpiece Madame de… is to imagine.
It takes imagination to be unhappy.
The great generals are actually incapable of unhappiness.
Up early every morning.
Drinking raw eggs.
Running 10 miles.
And so the last romantic in this film is none other than the Italian director (but here an actor) Vittorio De Sica.
And the cynic who melts is Danielle Darrieux.
I will say quite plainly, sometimes boring films are the best.
It is counterintuitive, but I will provide one theory as to their efficacy.
The boring film takes a long time to “play out”.
It is an older style of filmmaking–an older style of storytelling.
They say Frederick the Great didn’t think much of Shakespeare.
In some ways I don’t blame him.
But don’t get me wrong: much art of the past lacks the pizzazz we are used to as humans in the 21st century.
And so if you give this film a chance, you might just wind up as a resurrected being.
I’m being awfully cryptic. As always.
I don’t want to spoil it.
This is merely a letter from the heart. Tear it up and let it snow in the breeze.
Little pieces of paper from the train window.
Letter never sent. R.E.M.