Film Reviews


I don’t know what to make of the film. I guess I can relate to some of his childlike similes that Oliver makes in his narration, but I hate the way he acts and is show in the film. To me it just seems like that one long moment of sadness that people get when losing a loved one, and then we get over it after getting laid. However, there are some moments in the film where you can’t help but feel bad for him. I’m not talking about the main character. Although he is generally a nice guy, you can never trust main characters. Sometime sthey surprise you for the things that they do more than the other characters.

As for our  class, it has a lot to do with what we are currently studying in Multimedia Production. Lot’s of ephemeral moments. Oliver’s job is based on fashion trends, which is a very ephemeral profession, his dad turned gay for the last stretch of his life, his relationship with the french woman and his flashes of the past are all examples of things that don’t last forever.  Color plays an important factor in the film, and so do all of the visual imagery during his narration and the way things are shot. They convey the emotion and the mood that the characters feel. I notices that there are a lot of colors that are conspicuous in a dark setting. The lighting and the shadows are heavily layered over the shots (that sentence makes sense when speaking about music, but does it make sense when I talk about film?). In a way, all these elements of light and having the colors be really visible, kind of makes the film quite beautiful in a way. It feels like you are a kid confined in a large agoraphobic house at the heart of suburbia, with no one else but you inside the house with a nice view. You get a feeling of discomforting tranquility watching it. It’s like stepping into a time capsule and seeing life going on and on and on inside the house, everyone moves, gets older, objects are replaced, but the only thing that remains is the location and the house. Even nature changes, but not this dreadful house.


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