La femme de l’aviateur
The answer is probably threefold: Books, operas and O. I have been getting into an almost obsessive reading phase ever since I bought another huge bunch of books and re-organized my bookshelves such that these books can fit in. Also, we are getting ready to move to Singapore which means no more opera for me, so I am spending an extraordinary amount of time watching them, even watching them on TV because I somehow just got into the flow. I have a list of operas online and when they will be taken down. It’s the Netflix effect: If I know that something will be taken down soon, I am more likely to watch it. (With that said, if you know where I can get my hands on a production of “Un re in ascolto”, let me know.) Finally, a trip to London and various small things with O (going to the doctor’s and the likes) took up most of my time. Oh yeah, I also forgot a forth point, which is that I was catching up on exhibitions going on in Berlin. But now, having gone to almost 7 exhibitions or so, there are “only” 5 left which will come in the next few weeks. The winter exhibitions are almost always even more interesting, because people are more likely to go to a gallery on a winter day rather than a sunny day perfect for swimming in the lakes. As a result, I barely watched any movies at all, and once I got out of the rhythm of watching stuff, I was too distracted to get back into it.
Having ranted so much on my life, the main reason for this sheer endless blog hiatus is actually “La femme de l’aviateur” itself. The worst thing about exceptionally good movies is that they send me into a writer’s block sometimes. “La femme de l’aviateur” was that kind of film, even though I personally did not expect that at all. I thought there is much to say about this film, packed with lovely dialogue from Rohmer, the Nouvelle Vague master of dialogues. I think I will always see Rohmer this way, because “Ma nuit chez Maud” blew my mind with its witty dialogue and perhaps the best female character of all of Nouvelle Vague.
One strong memory for me was myself lying on the couch, watching the film while trying to guess Lucie’s name (lovely name, and so French!). I was mesmerized with her precocious character. She is the perfect young girl of any man’s fantasies, perhaps because she appears much smarter and more full of herself than everyone around her. I loved her and the way she dragged our kind of dull protagonist along. Judging by how she spoke about Latin homework, I guessed her name was “Marie-Laure” or something similarly pseudo-high-class sounding (and I avoided “Anne” because that name was already by the protagonist’s lover). As per quick look on Google, Lucie’s actress is a certain Anne-Laure Meury, so my instincts aren’t all that much off, huh?
Other than Lucie, I did not have any super memorable impressions to share after all this time, but I remember that it was the best film in the PIFF this year (which is pretty good!) and I understand why it’s on Gorp’s fictional Sight & Sound list. The details of the film (and what they talk about) is somewhat difficult to remember or even talk about – I actually feel that way with all the Rohmers I have seen so far – but the impression of awe about Rohmer’s capability to craft a story on human interactions persists.
I think I need to watch all the other 5 films from Rohmer’s “Comedies & Proverbs” series too. Originally I was not planning to see them for the silly reason that I prefer Nouvelle Vague films in black and white, but “La femme de l’aviateur” certainly changed my mind on that.
