The Painter and the Thief
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Watched it when the lockdown just started, looking for a bewildering vibe of an apocalypse. Unsurprisingly, as moving as mediocrity...but have to admit that Naomi made so much sacrifice and really nailed it in this piece.
What a solid script overflowing with layers and subtexts! Through discourse, memories, dreams and reflections, in a way, this is even better than some of Ingmar Bergman's works.
Tons of "motherfuckers" offer you some encouragement.
Slow, soft and strong, with a sense of innocence. Several big close-ups and POVs. The implications of the nose-piercing and the hands-holding scenes are quite manifest. The long-take of the titular scene really builds up the vibe to a touching and affecting moment. By the way, I really hate that people easily call this kind of piece a feminist film, which is exactly some sort of the patriarchal thought: Never Self-critical; Rarely Self-sacrificing; Sometimes Self-indulgent; Always Self-important.
This is probably the contemporary acme that a movie about marriage and relationship can reach. If you compare it with the break-up in real life at that time and the charge of the #MeToo movement 30 years later, along with quite a few experimental and political elements, a piece of "performance" art has been being unfolded in front of your eyes. The structure of throwing in documentary interviews makes it narratively superior to Hannah and Her Sisters (1986). The ending is fairly punchy and "disclosed": "Can I go? Is this over?"