Same goes for Psycho: this is the film where Hitchcock chucks out anything having to do with the aesthetic encounter; instead he goes for cinema as frighthouse carnival ride and never looks back.

1927 was also the year of the fifth Solvay Conference, in which the new quantum theory was introduced into physics. Not a hierarchy of matter but the encounter with something unknowable and transformative, and to unpredictable ends.

The film doesn't seek art beyond enchantment, which is to sentimentalise art, to relegate it to the instrument by which one maniuplates the viewer.

It's not even that the film invests so much energy in its visuals that it neglects narrative. The film presents the 'human' as a set of soaring ideals threatened by the sharp edge of necessity. It even stages this.

like, you'll fuck a peach in your gay sex movie but you won't get your kit off??

but also I saw Call Me by Your Name recently and it's a heavy tribute to Rohmer and that's fine but Rohmer is completely comfortable with nudity and people in bed instead of tastefully panning away at the crucial moment

I'm thinking of celebrities reproducing photo shoots of other celebrities from 30 years ago but more covered up and wooden-faced

looking into this

adorable

美极了！

This is wonderful, thank you!