Blow up (1966) - Michelangelo Antonioni
I stepped into my first viewing of this film with a sort of a childish eagerness. After all, this is a film that, time and time again, has been referred to as a huge inspiration on many of today's "important" filmmakers. Chalk up another tick on the "Big let down" board.
The story revolves around a photographer in the swinging London of the 60's. He is great at what he does, but he happens to be a bit of a prick.
One day, while taking pictures in a park, he stumbles across two people frolicking among the trees. He decides to take photos of them, and at home, while viewing these photos, spots a man, concealed behind the bushes, pointing a gun at them. He goes back to check on the site at night, and finds a dead body.
There is also one or two small side stories, like one with him trying desperately to buy a local antique shop... but none of these things are really touched upon with detail. In fact, nothing in the film is really resolved, including the actual "main story". This is the type of thing that the art crowd goes bonkers for, pretending to get some meaning from all of the non meaning, in order to be accepted within the "in crowd".
Though, in contrast to my previous comments, the ending of "Blow Up" is in some strange way, admittedly brilliant. Even though it has nothing to do with the actual film.
THE ENDING (POTENTIAL SPOILER):The main character, after going back to the site of the murder, finds nothing where the body once lay. He walks away sullen, with his camera, and spots some mimes playing tennis with an invisible ball on a tennis court. He decides to follow the path of the ball with his head - back and forth, back and forth. We cut to an extreme high, and wide shot of him standing alone on the desolate grasslands - cut to credits.
END OF SPOILER WARNING.
Because of my dislike for this film, I may come across as a philistine of sorts, a cinematic nihilist if you will. Though I assure you, I've adored many "art" films in my day, and this film just doesn't cut it. In my opinion, I may be on the lonely side of the fence, but at least I share that side of the fence with Pauline Kael, possibly the most respected critic of films in history. She also hated it. ( I found that fact out AFTER I made up my mind).
I stepped into my first viewing of this film with a sort of a childish eagerness. After all, this is a film that, time and time again, has been referred to as a huge inspiration on many of today's "important" filmmakers. Chalk up another tick on the "Big let down" board.
The story revolves around a photographer in the swinging London of the 60's. He is great at what he does, but he happens to be a bit of a prick.
One day, while taking pictures in a park, he stumbles across two people frolicking among the trees. He decides to take photos of them, and at home, while viewing these photos, spots a man, concealed behind the bushes, pointing a gun at them. He goes back to check on the site at night, and finds a dead body.
There is also one or two small side stories, like one with him trying desperately to buy a local antique shop... but none of these things are really touched upon with detail. In fact, nothing in the film is really resolved, including the actual "main story". This is the type of thing that the art crowd goes bonkers for, pretending to get some meaning from all of the non meaning, in order to be accepted within the "in crowd".
Though, in contrast to my previous comments, the ending of "Blow Up" is in some strange way, admittedly brilliant. Even though it has nothing to do with the actual film.
THE ENDING (POTENTIAL SPOILER):The main character, after going back to the site of the murder, finds nothing where the body once lay. He walks away sullen, with his camera, and spots some mimes playing tennis with an invisible ball on a tennis court. He decides to follow the path of the ball with his head - back and forth, back and forth. We cut to an extreme high, and wide shot of him standing alone on the desolate grasslands - cut to credits.
END OF SPOILER WARNING.
Because of my dislike for this film, I may come across as a philistine of sorts, a cinematic nihilist if you will. Though I assure you, I've adored many "art" films in my day, and this film just doesn't cut it. In my opinion, I may be on the lonely side of the fence, but at least I share that side of the fence with Pauline Kael, possibly the most respected critic of films in history. She also hated it. ( I found that fact out AFTER I made up my mind).
__________________
"I know a man who was born with his heart on the outside. Every man's worst fear, he also had heavy hands. he couldn't touch his lovers face, he couldn't hold a baby." - Buck 65
"I know a man who was born with his heart on the outside. Every man's worst fear, he also had heavy hands. he couldn't touch his lovers face, he couldn't hold a baby." - Buck 65
Last edited by Travis_Bickle; 03-10-04 at 01:08 AM.