Many of the pretending films I have seen recently are inexplicably embarrassing, but going back to the works of the masters, there is indeed not a single detail that is not smooth, not particular, and not beautiful. I don't know much about film history, but this film uses a shooting technique that seems to be imitated by many later blockbusters. Interspersed narratives are like oil paintings, with different timelines layered on top of each other, eventually becoming a plump and stunning work. When I watched "Love of Hiroshima," I didn't know whether it was because of my poor spirit or because my understanding has increased greatly recently, and I found it quite boring. But "Marion Budd" frowned and brushed it smoothly. Halfway through, I even thought that this was a film that dealt critical damage to my single dog status. Or, for example, a state of lack of the ability to love. I heard that the left bank is pro-Floyd.
"Marianbad" is probably about entangled memories with repressed and deformed dreams plus fantasy, so that the love born in Marienbad becomes a dilemma (labyrinth), trapping the owner of the memory and the devoted audience. Why do you want to end this predicament? He is anxious, he is confused, he is sometimes gentle, sometimes violent, full of contradictions, but it makes people unable to extricate themselves from it, and only by drawing strength from it can life be peaceful. But the length of the film is too much. FIN
View more about Last Year at Marienbad reviews
