Extra Help Reviews Occur in August or September
Disappointing in that it'south not the greatest film in the world, but still miles higher up everybody else.
In many ways, FIN AOUT is a dismaying and disappointing experience. Assayas' IRMA VEP is the all-time French picture of the terminal quarter century: thematically rich, stylistically remarkable, emotionally devastating. FIN AOUT is, in comparison, a rather drab, handheld have on Eric Rohmer, filled with dull, aimless, middle-class intellectuals who have such 'fiscal issues' that they become their uncle to lend them his country villa; they whinge and emote in the most bland terms, in a plot that says nothing and goes nowhere.
This very aimlessness seems to exist the movie's theme. Although the title is very specific about time and the seasons, the film itself seems to exist in a timeless vacuum. Each episode has a temporal subtitle (eg 'six months afterwards'), but no calendar month is ever specified, and could therefore be any or none. This is non the film's failing, simply that of the characters, who are locked in their own solipsism, flailing desperately, simply unable to escape.
Gabriel says of Adrien, the writer, that he was minor considering he could only see the globe from his limited viewpoint, but this is a much more general malaise - all the talk about friendship can't hide the fact that each character is fatally limited in perception of others, because of obsession with self (figured in the cramped interiors. The trips to the land are literally bursts of fresh air). This doesn't mean that Assayas isn't generous with his characters; he is probably kinder than some of them deserve (Gabriel, in particular, needs a proficient shaking). The search for an apartment, therefore, is non a trite subject field - these rootless characters, forming their ain community, are so drastic for a sense of place, home, that they search everywhere for it: the land, abroad, the by, expiry.
FIN AOUT has in common with IRMA VEP a concern with the crisis of expression in this era of post-modernism. The crucial figure hither is Adrien, significantly a receptacle of death (the funeral is becoming a recurring motif in modern French cinema, as in THOSE WHO Love ME Have THE Train); focus for all the other characters.
The question is: in an age of pastiche and reprodution, is it possible to insist on authentic personal expression (the pic's structure focuses on a shifting series of pairs: uneasy doublings and reproductions)? And does it matter that the person making an art of the personal (both the managing director in IRMA VEP and the writer here) is rather objectionable as a human existence? Is the insistence on the personal elitist and restrictive?
In IRMA VEP these questions were urgently juggled upward to the stop, with no clear answers. Hither the writer is unrecognised until he dies, mayhap confirming our decadent dependence on the past, and our inability to come to terms with and express the present (although even this is undermined; as his publisher remarks on Adrien's perceived success, 'I wouldn't become that far').
Unlike the managing director in IRMA VEP, we get no example of Adrien's work, save a cocky-serving and cliched letter (significantly breaking up a relationship of the May/December variety that has nearly stifled French movie house). There is no transcendental moment, like the final sequence of IRMA VEP; in essence an archetypal mail-modernistic artefact - a bitty, abased, incomplete, distorted, scratchy, uncontextualised piece of pic; a haunting palimpsest from some other age (a call to return to the beginnings of cinema, when possibilities were endless, before ossifying into the codes nosotros are stuck with now?); it is also the locus for Assayas' religion in cinema, personal expression and emotion. This issue is left rather vague here, because we have no bear witness with which to judge.
Well, except this film of grade. It is this that raises FIN AOUT - Assayas' complete, mature mastery of the medium. Although his cloth is banal, he electrifies and enlivens it with his style: the fluidity of his camera movements and editing; his emotional use of color, light and space; his mastery of the techniques of melodrama (many scenes echo the godlike Nicholas Ray); his intimate power to capture and brand profound every seemingly trivial gesture; his enlarging every particular to convey and enrich meaning.
Chris Darke has called FIN AOUT a cubist work, merely information technology seems to me more than similar an obsessive Monet serial: the characters and identify, for all the narrative perambulations, never seem to change, or resolve the problems that opened the film (even if they exit a identify, it'due south dorsum to somewhere they've been before), but Assayas' impressionistic eye, in capturing the moment, asserts the dazzler and depth of the transitory.
In fact, the pic's nearest peers, for all its cinematic brilliance, might exist literary - especially Proust and Beckett, in its avoidance of the dramatic (the primary death occurs off-screen) in favour of the phatic, the continuous and the elliptical, giving a truer account of lives dominated by lack (the film's credits accept the actors' names carve up autonomously, figuring the personality crises depicted inside).
I accept been using a lot of superlatives, and here's some other. Assayas is now, along with Tim Burton, Takeshi Kitano and Wong Kar-Wai, the greatest manager in the world; he has often been compared to the latter, although he hasn't yet quite reached Wong'southward offhand, melancholy poetry. This film, then, is his HAPPY TOGETHER, an absolutely astonishing example of cinematic potency, wasted on a rather monotonous psychodrama.
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Wonderful and mannerly.
Slow-paced, nuanced portrait of the friends surrounding a dying homo. Wonderfully subtle and insightful, with outstanding interim and a marvelous script. Managing director Assayas' skill behind the camera is evident in every shot, despite lack of variety in locations and niggling action. Lots of chat but the best moments come when the camera begins to wander. The kind of film yous need to throw yourself into to truly appreciate. Very, very french.
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Disappointing in that it's not the greatest pic in the world, simply even so miles above everybody else.
In many ways, FIN AOUT, DEBUT DECEMBRE is a dismaying and disappointing feel. Assayas' IRMA VEP is the all-time French picture of the last quarter century; thematically rich, stylistically remarkable, emotionally devastating. FIN AOUT is, in comparison, a rather drab handheld have on Eric Rohmer, filled with dull, aimless, centre-form intellectuals who have such 'fiscal problems' that they go their uncle to lend them his country villa; they whinge and emote in the almost banal terms, in a plot that says zip, and goes nowhere.
This very drabness seems to exist the picture'south theme. Although the title is very specific about time and the seasons, the picture itself seems to exist in a timeless vacuum. Each episode has a temporal subtitle (e.g. 'six months afterward'), simply no month is ever specified, and could therefore exist any or none. This is non the film's failing, but that of the characters, who are locked in their own solipsism, flailing desperately, but unable to escape.
Gabriel says of Adrien, the writer, that he was minor because he could only come across the globe from his express viewpoint, only this is a much more than general malaise - all the talk about friendship tin't hide the fact that each grapheme is fatally limited in perception of others, because of obsession with cocky (figured in the cramped interiors. The trips to the country are literally bursts of fresh air). This doesn't mean that Assayas isn't generous with his characters; he is probably kinder than some of them deserve (Gabriel in particular needs a good shaking). The search for an flat, therefore, is not a trite subject - these rootless characters, forming their own customs, are then desperate for a sense of place, home, that they search everywhere for it: the country, abroad, the by, death.
FIN AOUT has in common with IRMA VEP a concern with the crunch of expression in this era of post-modernism. The crucial figure here is the author, significantly a receptacle of death (the funeral is becoming a recurring motif in modern French cinema, as in THOSE WHO Dear ME TAKE THE Train); focus for all the other characters.
The question is: in an age of pastiche and reproduction, is information technology possible to insist on accurate personal expression (the film's structure focuses on shifting series of pairs: uneasy doublings and reproductions). And does it affair that this person (both the director in IRMA VEP, and the author hither) is rather objectionable as a homo being? Is the insistence on the personal elitist and restrictive?
In IRMA VEP, these questions were urgently juggled up to the end, with no clear answers. Here, the author is unrecognised until he dies, perhaps confirming our decadent reliance on the by, and our inability to come up to terms with and express the nowadays (although even this is undermined; as his publisher remarks on his perceived success, 'I wouldn't go that far').
Different the manager in IRMA VEP, we get no example of Adrien's work, salve a cocky-serving and cliched letter of the alphabet (significantly breaking up a human relationship of the May/December blazon that has nearly killed French cinema). At that place is no transcendental moment, like the terminal sequence of IRMA VEP; in essence an archetypal post-modern artefact - a fragmentary, abased, incomplete, distorted, scratchy, uncontextualised piece of film; a haunting palimpsest from another historic period (a call to return to the beginnings of cinema, when possibilities were countless, before ossifying into the codes we are stuck with at present?), it is too the locus for Assayas' organized religion in cinema, personal expression and emotion. This consequence is left rather vague here, because we have no evidence with which to guess.
Well, except this motion picture, of class. It is this that raises the motion-picture show - Assayas' consummate, mature mastery of the medium. Although his material is banal, he electrifies and enlivens information technology with his style: the fluidity of his camera movements and editing; his emotional use of colour, light and space; his mastery of the techniques of melodrama; his intimate ability to capture, and brand profound, every seemingly petty, gesture; his enlarging every detail to convey and enrich pregnant.
Chris Darke has called FIN AOUT a cubist picture show, but information technology seems to me more like an obsessive Monet serial: the characters and identify, for all their narrative perambulations, never seem to change, or resolve the problems that opened the film (fifty-fifty if they exit somewhere, it'due south dorsum to somewhere they've been before), but Assayas' impressionistic centre, in capturing authentically the moment, asserts the dazzler and depth of the transitory.
In fact, the film's nearest comparisons, for all its cinematic brilliance, might exist literary - especially Proust and Beckett - in its avoidance of the dramatic (the main death occurs off-screen) in favour of the phatic, the continuous and the elliptical, giving a truer business relationship of lives dominated by lack (the flick's opening credits have the actors' names split apart, figuring the personality crises that make upwardly its content).
I take been using a lot of superlatives, and here'southward some other. Assayas is, along with Tim Burton, Takeshi Kitano and Wong Kar-Wai, the greatest manager in the world: he has ofttimes been compared to the latter, although he can't quite reach Wong'south offhand melancholy poesy just yet. FIN AOUT, than, is his HAPPY TOGETHER, an absolutely astonishing case of cinematic authorization wasted on a rather monotonous psychodrama.
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Nice marriage of form and content
The style of the film, described elsewhere every bit in the 'Dogme 95' genre, really works well for this story, especially on the cinema screen; on video, the transfer was made from a slightly poor-quality print, which is too bad - the photography in the movie is splendid. For the technically-oriented, "Fin Aout, Début Septembre" was filmed in Super-16mm, and in my opinion this sort of plot is perfectly suited to the S16, or the DV-originated type of storytelling technique. Information technology's true there was no murder or free violence, no rape or incest, no endless spurting of tears and confessions, which is frankly the reason I dearest this flick. The dialogues are conceivable, the characters are very real, with that feeling of people we've known and perhaps non e'er loved or cared to be around, simply who are part of life nonetheless...I admire a filmmaker who is willing to present characters that are based in life, not in film clichés, and Assayas pulls it off here wonderfully in my opinion.
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What am I going to practise now?
I was attracted to this flick because of Virginie Ledoyen (The Valet, * Women), and to a lesser extent because information technology was written and directed by Olivier Assayas (Boarding Gate, Demonlover, Paris, je t'aime). I was not thrilled, merely I was not terribly disappointed either.
Ledoyen, every bit were all the characters in the film was self-obsessed. Probably none more so than Gabriel (Mathieu Amalric - The Diving Bell and the Butterfly), who seemed to demand a constant reaffirmation from his friends, but rejected any criticism of his aimless life.
The motion-picture show revolved around Adrien (François Cluzet), a writer that lived on the margins while composing novels that no one read. In fact, most all of the characters lived on the margins in meaningless jobs. They only floated instead of trying to build something.
I judge if I wasn't fascinated with helping someone who seems to live a similar life, I wouldn't have found this moving-picture show as interesting. But the acting rose to a higher place the story and it was, indeed a pleasance to watch.
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Stereotypical French film
This is a pretty stereotypical French film in that involves a lot a non-terribly-interesting, very bourgeois French people talking incessantly about their personal relationships and the meaning of life (I wasn't expecting Hollywood-fashion gun fights and car crashes, but there has to be a happy medium somewhere). The bland lead is dealing with his failed relationship with his long-fourth dimension ex-girlfriend and his inability to commit to his nowadays lover (Virginie Ledoyen)as he also comes face-to-face with his unrealized literary ambitions and the imminent death of his older and slightly more successful mentor. The dying mentor, meanwhile, is a published merely still obscure author. Although he is eye-aged, he has taken on an unusually precocious 15-year-old as a mistress--why? because this a French movie, the land that gave us Eric "Claire'southward Knee" Rohmer and was the first to publish Vladimir Nabokov's scandalous novel "Lolita"--making borderline pedophilia look vaguely classy seems to be a longstanding French cinematic tradition.
The best reason to watch this movie is for Virginie Ledoyen who is almost familiar to American audiences as Leonardo DeCaprio'southward girlfriend in "The Beach" and for her appearance on the cover of a number of lowbrow men's magazines like "Maxim". She is actually a pretty skillful extra though and the picture shows some signs of life whenever she is on screen (which is all also infrequently I'm agape). The only other remarkable things about this moving-picture show is the relative famine of sex scenes (although there is one memorable very one with Ledoyen most the end)and the fact that many of these characters really seem to have jobs(!)and are not simply lounging on the beach or in the countryside as is usually the case in French movies. Other than that this film is very stereotypical. If y'all like talky French movies in general, you lot'll probably like it, simply if not, I wouldn't bother.
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a wonderful motion-picture show about emotions
Warning: Spoilers
Late August, Early on September (1998)
Olivier Assayas created a wonderful flick most emotions most feelings, love friendship and death. How tin can he develop so many multidimensional characters in just one movie, evidence such a complexity of emotions? We are far from the mediocre habitual (French) flick that piles up betrayal and apartment pretty faces. Maybe considering the places, the light are familiar to me, it all feel so real, the situations are realistic and the characters exist exterior the field of the photographic camera. Beautiful music by Ali Farka Touré and amongst an excellent bandage Virginie Ledoyen performs like we could never have suspected from her mediocre acting in 'The Beach' or 'Bon Voyage' Most people will not like that film simply this is the best I take seen this year.
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Another strong film from Assayas
I still didn't similar this as much as "Demonlover" past a long stretch, just I idea it was a flake more well-executed than Irma Vep. The various aspects of Assayas's style are more fully integrated here, simply I however find he has a trend toward extended intellectual coffee shop dialogue (a la Godard) at times that I'thou not crazy about, and which still doesn't mesh well with his penchant for moody visuals (in my opinion still is greatest force). The moving-picture show reminds me quite a bit of Michael Winterbottom's "Wonderland". Like that film, neither the characters nor the situations of the story are really that remarkable or interesting, only rather the pic derives it'due south strength from little fleeting moments. And also like Winterbottom, Assayas has an unfortunate tendency here to cut those moments slightly short. I found a number of times wanting scenes to go along longer than they did, building up more of that improvisational sense of intimacy, instead of oftentimes fading to blackness while the scene is still underway (similar to Winterbottom's "9 Songs"). Still, there are enough of those moments to make the film more than worthwhile. I definitely call back it is Assayas's about approachable, warm motion picture that I've seen. Not that I find he is necessarily a particularly cold or detached filmmaker ("Demonlover", if anything, may very well be a masterpiece of pure disengagement and inhumanity, simply I recall that comes more from the concept of the film rather than the filmmaker, and "Irma Vep" was nothing if not a gushing love alphabetic character to his ex-wife, after all), simply there seems to be a deliberate endeavour in this moving picture to capture something real and immediate, even if Assayas gets side tracked by the unfortunate boats of cerebral, intellectual café chatting.
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A characteristically French and amazingly subtle portrait of a circle of friends.
STYLIZED REALISM
A tremendous and moving depiction of friendship and love whose dialogue is obviously French and whose camera-verite is very Dogme 95. Through a hand-held whirl nosotros see stunningly candid and enticingly bare portraits of the goings on and thoughts of a group of friends including all the nuances of relationships. In this regard, Assayas's film is very similar to "La Promesse" and the Dogme 95 films. Simply the dialogue is extremely French in that it is very dramatic and a little too perfect to be existent: dialogues feature characters who engage in dialogue'southward where they listen and think rather than argue. All the same fifty-fifty this works in the films favor, making you all the more than taken in past characters demonstrate such depth.
The performances are remarkable and for the most function, the characters brilliantly faceted.
The movie is a fleck longer than information technology needs to be, only the subtlety of the scenes requires patient development.
If you like Robert Bresson, Hal Hartley, Lars Van Trier, or Thomas Vinterburg, go come across this. The fashion of the camerawork and the lushness of some of the lighting makes this a must encounter for the screen
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Maybe not quite deep enough to honey, but hard not to really like
A lovely, delicate wisp of a film, following moments over the class of a year in the lives of a small-scale group of 20 and 30 something friends, and the sickness and death of the oldest amid them; their unofficial mentor, a writer who never quite succeeded.
In that location'southward no real plot, and the emotions are never intense, just there's a lot of interesting fragments that add together to give a portrait of friends and lovers struggling to grow upward and detect their place in the world and with each other.
I establish I liked it even more on 2nd viewing, the pieces adding upward to an even more delicate but emotional experience. Not quite a great film, merely a likable, intelligent and beauteous one.
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Wonderful Film
A cute and moving film filled with understated nonetheless extremely rich, quietly complex character studies. The people in this picture are so real, they don't seem like fictional characters at all and the flick has the natural rhythm of existent life. The interaction and inter-connections are rare in movies. Often very funny, Late August, Early September is also quite heartbreaking. Ane of the best films in years.
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they talk and exist, only does anybody care
i like french films, specially french films where everybody thinks they are the bomb, nobody works and everybody lounges around drinking coffee. that's my ideal in life, only enough about me. the story is about a bunch of center aged people who each is going through some sort of crunch. basically they meet each other and talk over their life, not in a straight way, merely through inneundo. are they full of themselves, yes, just it'southward still fun to watch. non the best of motion-picture show making, but while we rot on this planet and babes like the ane you see on this movie are out of our grasp, we can spotter this motion picture. man this review is lame! fudge IMDb! fudge comments!
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Plot less
Similar many French movies, not a lot happens in this one. It follows a group of acquaintances for about a twelvemonth. There are loves gained and lost, families who fight, and some who don't, secret affairs, and open ones, friends who sit effectually and talk in coffee shops, a lot of actually mundane stuff. The brilliant spot is Virginie Ledoyen, who is simply too pretty. (A cool affair is that French women seem to have discovered razors!!!) There is certainly a place for character studies, and slow-moving films. Only this one failed to appeal to me on any level. Perhaps the language barrier was besides much for me to overcome. I can't recommend this one.
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Yes, even this one
Can actors salve an otherwise completely bad movie? The answer is of course "yes". Proof, if needed, is the possibly horrible "Fin août début septembre". The only reasons I went to meet it, were the fact that the picture show was directed past Assayas (who impressed me with "Irma Vep") and that information technology starred Virginie Ledoyen (upward till now fantabulous in every movie she ever played in). Yes, she was very dainty in "L'eau froide", a not and then good flick by... Olivier Assayas. Oops! Still, with Miss Ledoyen and "Irma Vep" in heed, I went to the theatre... and was quite disappointed. The story is so lame I can't even convince myself of giving you a summary. Then we take the managing director... Well, I tin can merely recall of two things that must have happened. Either Olivier Assayas was constantly absent-minded and gave the photographic camera to his five yr old nephew, or he tried to make something resembling a Dogma 95 flick. We'll get for reason number one. The photographic camera spins and spins when there is no reason to spin. When your actors sit on the ground, you don't have to make wild images. Unless of course the cameraman is then busy trying non to autumn from the stairs at that moment. Peradventure falling wouldn't have been that bad: we wouldn't have had the rest of the film.
But this is going to startle you: I gave the movie a half-dozen/ten. Alibi me? A 6? Well yes, a 6... considering the actors (mainly Virginie... again / of course) are and then good that you endeavour non to see what Assayas did to the movie. If you are somebody who can look at actors and enjoy their piece of work, maybe y'all can have a expect at this movie. If non, pretend it's poisoned with plutonium.
(P.S. I wonder if I would have given the movie 6/10 if Virginie Ledoyen hadn't been in it. I guess but a remake tin can tell me that. Simply in case Assayas accidently reads this: DON'T EVEN THINK Virtually Information technology!)
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Mediocrity? Hardly!
This film is definitely non a "testify"! More like character analysis. It does not go too deep into anybody's mentality, just enough to give a complete picture of a group of friends experiencing the normal turbulence of life.
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