The NBA playoffs and clay court tennis (not to mention raising children and keeping some semblance of a home) have severely interfered with my movie watching.
I haven't seen many Maurice Pialat films but am trying to rectify that. I found Van Gogh incredibly compelling, in no small part because of it's multi layered portrayals of the many women both in and around the artist's milieu.
I've had his A nos amours for entirely too long. If Sandrine Bonnaire's gaze on the cover is any indication, this depiction of teen aged female sexuality will be something that will resonate with me as well.
Having recently turned 35, I'm now closer to being a mother to a teen than one myself. Not to mention my mom was my age when I was 15. I think my birthday combined with internet "sightings" of my first sexual partners, have made me nostalgic for blow jobs on mall parking decks and other more unsavory misdemeanors of my youth.
I think I'm going to get Smooth Talk and make it a troubled teen double bill while Jim makes his way through the The Vengeance Trilogy. Again.
While patiently awaiting Shutter Island and chomping at the bit for Silence, Jim is revisiting some of his favorite moments with Scorsese. Like clockwork, his Marty jones always surfaces hardest halfway between releases. He finally found American Boy: A Profile of Steven Prince, a doc he's seen but has wanted to introduce me to for a while. Thankfully talk from about a year ago that Scorsese was scaling back have proven to be wholly untrue. I can't imagine the film marathon my dedicated husband will go on after the director's death.