EACH DAY A DEBUT
“A film so new it looks confusingly as if it might be a failure...” —Truffaut on Renoir’s La Regle du jeu
This feature a “love-and-guns-on-the-run.” Upon the oily saddle, an automatic outtake. Nine minutes and forty-six seconds in the Louvre. This sequence: they dislocate a clarinet, get confused. Each day frames a father, director. So this Lapland satire returns, your love still the winter, traveling guardedly like a country truck in the distance. This shot shaded in Gaussian parameters. Angle left, angle right. We keep making stories for when we go like programmed lambs.
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