The eternity of ‘Hiroshima, Mon Amour’
It felt like eternity — for all the wrong reasons
I came to this film after reading a very poetic response to it by fellow Medium writer audrey. So, I thought, it must be a beautiful film to have inspired such poetry in one of its viewers. I was open-minded because audrey’s commentary was helpfully vague regarding genre and plot. However I did expect it to be poetic and maybe even moving.
Well, it did move me, but in the wrong direction — towards the exit. If I were watching it in a cinema I don’t think I could have stayed for the duration. The first half was interesting, I suppose, mostly because it wasn’t quite clear what was going on; there was a sense of mystery and I wanted to find out more. Also, the composition of the film intrigues me (for 45 minutes) and I do appreciate that this would have been outstanding in its day (it did win prizes). However, I think the photography of The Third Man — filmed ten years previously — is more artistic and meaningful (I’ll maybe write about that another time).
By half time my curiosity had worn thin, it was clear that there was going to be no resolution, and to be quite honest I gave up. I had lost my patience with the characters. The French woman had been talking about her traumatic youth, but strangely the dialogue and the filming did not rouse my sympathy. It was too disjointed. I suppose that’s the point, life is full of experiences that are too difficult to reconcile. As audrey observed, ‘We do not choose the tragedies that come upon us. We only do what we can with the violence we all carry, all throughout our lives.’ True, but this film was taking it too far. These characters had suffered in the past but they didn’t seem to be moving anywhere with (or despite of) that suffering. Notably it is only the woman’s suffering is actually shown in detail, which I dislike in itself. And the fact that both these characters are married made me unsympathetic too. I think the incoherent composition prevented me from believing that there was any great romance which could have possibly made this extramarital affair less unacceptable.
The only scenes I actually liked were the all too brief glimpses of her cycling in the French countryside, I felt that the film was going somewhere then — but it didn’t… I had no idea where it was coming from or where it was going…
In the second half I was moved — to skip forward. I hardly ever skip, whether reading, listening or watching. If the writer wrote it, the reader must read it. If the director kept the scene, it must be worth watching. But not so here. They were just walking around! Am I missing something? I thought. Maybe some of the effect is lost on English speakers. Maybe it’s because I know nothing about the French New Wave, and I’m not educated enough to understand… Maybe in those few minutes I skipped, I missed some important scenes — but I doubt it.
If I remember correctly, the Japanese man asks the lady how long she was locked away when she was ‘mad.’
‘For eternity,’ she replied.
Well this film certainty felt like an eternity! I just wanted it to end. If she liked Nevers so much, with its beautiful river (which we hardly ever see!) why don’t you go back there then? I wanted to exclaim. (I know, I know there’s plenty of reasons but I was agonisingly bored…)
And it lacked poetry. Poetry is about form. But the form of this film is all… misshapen.
But at least it is well-shot, with decent set designs and lighting. The music doesn’t add much, but it doesn’t distract. And it was a chance to practise my French listening skills…
Honestly, I’m glad that people enjoy it, it’s good that we all appreciate different things, I understand why it has influenced films that came after it… but this really wasn’t for me. 2.5/5 (maybe 3 if I’m being fair)
…
(Aha, but maybe the film is quite subtle… I have just written about it in the past tense, when I usually write in the present… A good thought to end on.)
Frou-Frou
