In this excerpt, there is no narrative argument, no scenic stakes at play: it is an ode to sensuality, in which touch has a central, but not exclusive place. A man's hands open the shutters of a mirror-table covered with sapphire-blue beads, while the screen slowly opens. A woman's face appears, as if set in the glass beads. As she gently brings her hands together to roll them, operatic music is played, as if part of a mysterious ceremony. Other hands mysteriously appear - we don't know who they belong to. As the hands weigh, spread and caress the glass beads, the face appears or disappears, and the image and its texture keep changing, in a subtle play between sharpness and blur that transforms the beads into sequins. Over the music, the tinkling of the marbles accompanies what looks like a moment of pure tactile, visual and auditory enjoyment. The sequence then changes: the marbles and the face disappear, a blue cup is brought in, filled with ice cream. The music stops, while the young woman grabs it with her hands and starts to taste the ice cream, in real time, in front of the camera. The director, exploiting the resources of his rigorous framing choices, takes visible pleasure in playing with the possibilities offered by the visuals and sound off-screen. The viewer's attention is then fully absorbed in the contemplation of this spectacle which summons all his senses: the crackling of the fire, the distinct ticking of the clock off-camera, the sound of the spoon clinking against the bowl, all resonate in his ears. These are enough for his imagination to take over. We can then almost feel, at the same time as the character, the cold creamy texture of the ice cream melting against the palate contrasting against the warmth of the fire on their cheek.
Comment
In this excerpt, there is no narrative argument, no scenic stakes at play: it is an ode to sensuality, in which touch has a central, but not exclusive place. A man's hands open the shutters of a mirror-table covered with sapphire-blue beads, while the screen slowly opens. A woman's face appears, as if set in the glass beads. As she gently brings her hands together to roll them, operatic music is played, as if part of a mysterious ceremony. Other hands mysteriously appear - we don't know who they belong to. As the hands weigh, spread and caress the glass beads, the face appears or disappears, and the image and its texture keep changing, in a subtle play between sharpness and blur that transforms the beads into sequins. Over the music, the tinkling of the marbles accompanies what looks like a moment of pure tactile, visual and auditory enjoyment. The sequence then changes: the marbles and the face disappear, a blue cup is brought in, filled with ice cream. The music stops, while the young woman grabs it with her hands and starts to taste the ice cream, in real time, in front of the camera. The director, exploiting the resources of his rigorous framing choices, takes visible pleasure in playing with the possibilities offered by the visuals and sound off-screen. The viewer's attention is then fully absorbed in the contemplation of this spectacle which summons all his senses: the crackling of the fire, the distinct ticking of the clock off-camera, the sound of the spoon clinking against the bowl, all resonate in his ears. These are enough for his imagination to take over. We can then almost feel, at the same time as the character, the cold creamy texture of the ice cream melting against the palate contrasting against the warmth of the fire on their cheek.