When I was seventeen or a little 'before, I went to film the spectacle of three in the afternoon.
In general, I saw French films of the genre that spoke in sentences, mutilated, one every quarter of an hour, often with subtitles.
Typically, after each scene went down a black man with a ten seconds, very significant of the intentions of the director.
To say, Rohmer, or certain actors like André Dussolier or Aurore Clément, or Pascale Ogier: either they learn at that age, or you can safely say goodbye to any serious attempt at acculturation film like that - for sheer tedium.
short, we went, and cinema was empty, except for two or three seats occupied, from which it is useless to say that I wisely kept away.
One was always occupied by the same person, several rows forward or several rows behind mine: I was clear as day that this was a maniac. On the contrary: the maniac, typical of cinema, what reasonably should be in all cinema, all the shows.
Why was the maniac to see Le Rayon vert and not something more sinister and exciting to the movies nearby Eden, was not concerned that my little head then touched the high school.
Many years later, I recognized at an elegant dinner: he taught film history and University of the theater.
attended for the same mutual friends house, his guest and friend of the parents, I am a guest and friend of the children.
lived alone in a downtown hotel, and dined in a small restaurant nearby where I often went with Roso.
We sat at the table next to his and he gladly left - but with just shyness, not to disturb our conversation by boyfriends-the stack of newspapers and magazines that kept him company.
So we began.
He gave us the wonder of when he knew Pasolini, Visconti and Fellini, I made him laugh in return, telling Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise and Hollywood gossip.
So, now - that this film does not even exist more - every time someone asks me if I'm a film by French or Russian or Iranian , I say no, they are not, but I can think of the girl, the young woman, and the Professor. Those three are laughing together, and a little 'I miss.
In general, I saw French films of the genre that spoke in sentences, mutilated, one every quarter of an hour, often with subtitles.
Typically, after each scene went down a black man with a ten seconds, very significant of the intentions of the director.
To say, Rohmer, or certain actors like André Dussolier or Aurore Clément, or Pascale Ogier: either they learn at that age, or you can safely say goodbye to any serious attempt at acculturation film like that - for sheer tedium.
short, we went, and cinema was empty, except for two or three seats occupied, from which it is useless to say that I wisely kept away.
One was always occupied by the same person, several rows forward or several rows behind mine: I was clear as day that this was a maniac. On the contrary: the maniac, typical of cinema, what reasonably should be in all cinema, all the shows.
Why was the maniac to see Le Rayon vert and not something more sinister and exciting to the movies nearby Eden, was not concerned that my little head then touched the high school.
Many years later, I recognized at an elegant dinner: he taught film history and University of the theater.
attended for the same mutual friends house, his guest and friend of the parents, I am a guest and friend of the children.
lived alone in a downtown hotel, and dined in a small restaurant nearby where I often went with Roso.
We sat at the table next to his and he gladly left - but with just shyness, not to disturb our conversation by boyfriends-the stack of newspapers and magazines that kept him company.
So we began.
He gave us the wonder of when he knew Pasolini, Visconti and Fellini, I made him laugh in return, telling Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise and Hollywood gossip.
So, now - that this film does not even exist more - every time someone asks me if I'm a film by French or Russian or Iranian , I say no, they are not, but I can think of the girl, the young woman, and the Professor. Those three are laughing together, and a little 'I miss.
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