Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta the dreamers. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta the dreamers. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, 31 de enero de 2011

A free masonry of cinephiles...

I'd come to Paris for a year to study French. But it was here that I got my real education. I became a member of what in those days was kind of a free masonry. A free masonry of cinephiles... what we'd call "film buffs." I was one of the insatiables...  the ones you'd always find sitting closest to the screen.
 Why do we sit so close?  Maybe it was because we wanted to receive the images first... when they were still new, still fresh... before they cleared the hurdles of the rows behind us... before they'd been relayed back from row to row, spectator to spectator... until worn-out, secondhand, the size of a postage stamp... it returned to the projectionist's cabin.
Maybe, too, the screen was really a screen. It screened us... from the world.
The Dreamers (2003) by Bernardo Bertolucci

martes, 5 de octubre de 2010

domingo, 20 de junio de 2010

The Dreamers (2003) by Bernardo Bertolucci


We accept you, one of us! One of us!

I wish you could step out of yourself and just look.

I don't believe in God, but if I did, he would be a black, left-handed guitarist.

It makes films like crimes, and directors like criminals.

Oh, Matthew. How nice of you to keep my image close to your heart.

I can't stop you, I've got no arms.

As we walked, we talked and talked and talked about politics, about movies, and about why the French could never come close to producing a good rock band.

Other people's parents are always nicer than our own, and yet for some reason, our grandparents are always nicer than other people's.

The first time I saw a movie at the cinématèque française I thought, "Only the French... only the French would house a cinema inside a palace."

I was one of the insatiables. The ones you'd always find sitting closest to the screen. Why do we sit so close? Maybe it was because we wanted to receive the images first. When they were still new, still fresh. Before they cleared the hurdles of the rows behind us. Before they'd been relayed back from row to row, spectator to spectator; until worn out, secondhand, the size of a postage stamp, it returned to the projectionist's cabin. Maybe, too, the screen was really a screen. It screened us... from the world.

I think you prefer when the word "together" means not "a million," but just two.

Yes, I'm drunk. And you're beautiful. And tomorrow morning, I'll be sober but you'll still be beautiful.

A revolution isn't a gala dinner. It cannot be created like a book, a drawing or a tapestry. It cannot unfold with such elegance, tranquility and delicacy. Or such sweetness, affability. Courtesy, restraint and generosity. A revolution is an uprising, a violent act by which one class overthrows another.

Listen to me, Theo. Before you can change the world you must realize that you, yourself, are part of it. You can't stand outside looking in.

Matthew: [about Theo] Has he never been inside of you?
Isabelle: He's always inside of me.

In this big, epic movie - everyone is an extra.

It's fucked up. It's all fucked up.