A diary by means of a collage by means of a cartoon. Verbose explication in the comments. On hiatus. read comics the wrong way at: Latent Narratives
read comics the wrong way at: Latent Narratives
Returning to Melville's Le Samouraï (1967), and gleaning a little more from the experience ... realizing that I had been so enamored with the luxury of the sets that I hadn't really followed the story previously. Or, at least realizing I didn't understand the story now - which may be a sign of mental deterioration. Anyway, it's still gorgeous. Unhappy with the screen grabs I'd gotten for this, Delon's stride being too 'kick-y', but, as usual, I was pressed for time and suddenly found that Firefox had caught up with Criterion's IP block, making catching screen grabs all the harder. I don't remember exactly what I had done to get around it, but I do remember it was an added stresser. Still, I'm happy with the quality of the house, and the car, and the tree in the first frame, and then with the window of the shop in the second. Though the street view was sordid and gritty, the view from inside the shop, I realized, with it's chrome-framed full-wall window, reminded me of Tati's Playime 'future Paris' fake city set. It was an odd realization, as Delon then goes to a vintage phone (at least I don't think that phone was to indicate modernity, but I am unsure). I'm now wondering whether this is supposed to indicate Delon's Costello as being trapped between worlds(?). Or maybe I'm just reading too much into it. And then, of course, the telephone. It's now a conscious thing, these vintage phones. The message on the line is a mantra that my therapist is fond of repeating. And it's a message that's worth crossing the street for, I guess. It's pretty much always applicable, at any rate. Not crazy with my depiction of Delon's face here. A little too cartoony to be Soap Strip. But it's a minor complaint to be honest. In general, I think this is at worst an A minus. Also happy with the weird mottling the letterbox borders presented in 3 & 4. Not sure why the thing that's out of my control is often the most satisfying.