Review of Sans Soleil (1983) by Ian H — 26 Jun 2007
So few films have ever expanded the possibilities of filmmaking as this one did. At first, the landscapes of Tokyo were as alien to me as several galaxies away. But as Marker's memories wrote themselves onto mine, I felt myself being drawn toward the strangeness in a beautiful kind of meditative mediative ceremony.
Equal parts philosophy, documentary, poetry, and sci-fi, this film synergistically extends the possibilities of nearly every genre. Pretentious, maybe. But on its own terms, which the viewer must come to accept, not at all.
Look out for strange meaning in the blood-soaked killing of a giraffe, the last oil-powered lighthouse, Mussorgsky via Moog, emus in the Ile de France, PacMan, Whack-a-Mole, doll-burning, volcanoes, Vertigo, and cat shrines.
If ever one of your dendrites connected to A Man With a Movie Camera or Days of Heaven, it will be baffled and lifted up by Sans Soleil. Regardless, see it.
This review of Sans Soleil (1983) was written by Ian H on 26 Jun 2007.
Sans Soleil has generally received very positive reviews.
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