Varda's documentary/artistic style is a great French prose poeticism. Starting from some images that have both metaphorical concreteness and historical depth, her film prose poems continue to stretch, différance, and inexplicable, but the details in each free association are subtle. The spreading tentacles of the prose sometimes remind people of Montaigne, sometimes transformed into Derrida-style philosophical texts, and sometimes full of plaisir du texte, but the deep stagnation is clearly Varda's own quiet inquiries. With all history, all politics, all the wrinkles of life: a photo, a street named after Daguerre, a famous painting, a name from Homer’s epic, a war, a question about the Napoleonic Code... All the films have turned into a long poem in my mind, which is about the duration, pain, and present of Europa.
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