The favorite film I ever saw I don't remember it's name, it was a French movie, with a guy wearing a green coat regarding some army uniform, the same model has one of my oldest brothers had at the time. I remember this guy coming from the rainy street entering through some building in a noisy elevator. Then there was a sweet home with warm colored walls and the guy stepped on the corridor waiting, back against the warm wall, loading up a cigarette. We were in the eighties. I was a kid who got mixed up with ideas and the sense of what world was about. I don't know what were the remains of this movie that kept me haunting ever since. But as everything else in my life it became a part of me, a part of my imagination, a part of my dreams. And this is how it starts my venerated relationship between me and the films themselves.
This dubious confused love has created another life where half of me was permanently transferred. A room close to the world of dreams where reality survives as in real life. This is the place of celluloid artifacts where stories are made flowing out the creative will. Where we forget our daily torments and pay the tribute to our fantasies in graphical configurations, movement conflicts and, above all, images and sound.
Different approaches that entertain and stimulate our being like birds. It's a parallel universe opened in front of our eyes. As Melanie, Mitch and the Captain standing by the window. A legendary screen where you can easily mistake a bin for a can of beans, where there are actions that can always be undone.
Twisting and flipping your time and space.
For me the word that defines this world is unlimited and undefined. A collective result made by unnamed individuals for some other unnamed individuals drowned in the social collective movie word.
Movies above all the technical terms and specifications have learned to drive their own presence and their own way. Their own individuals. Their own nice fellows.
My project for this course is also about dreams, life and fantasies. A life from someone who cannot see images. My project his about this blind man who's thinking about his loved one. A woman, he thinks. A love that can only be imagined, where nothing is clear, nothing is real true and time. It's a concept about unreality, about someone who never saw, who never known what light and color was. A short monologue term where fiction is the daily banquet. And that's all I know. Is about the perception of feelings translated in words and imagined in invisual content. As dreams are the translations of our daily visual subjects.
When Man created God before the word society was known there was no place for him in earth so Man looked up and gave him the Sky as this was the only place Man was not able to go. When Man invented the so-called movies, cinema, films he also recreated God's world giving him the ability to perform and to subsist further up the divine adoration of religion. God is the tape that is never destroyed when you loose your own clips. God is the parallel world of imagination where my whole me permanently lives.
I will show two examples that in a way can show what I could never say, two short clips from "Mulholland Drive" by David Lynch and "Memento" by Christopher Nolan.
The first is a movie that flows along the lines of sense of wonder, where the narrative is playfully surreal followed by visual contours of racing seduction and sensuality. It shows the World supported in this imaginary window of Melanie, Mitch and the Captain where everything can happen. Even if it makes no sense.
The second traces the puzzle of time and memory. In a reversed structure.
Both are the compelling will of cinema to in itself recreate the steps of God among Men apart of all forms of edited Creativity and Moving Images.
Escrevi isto para um mini curso de cinema que fiz há dois anos. Não revi o texto. Mas tudo o que diz faz parte de mim. Sou eu. Li-o em voz alta para um pequeno público.
Publicado por Prusidente da Junta | Prusidente | 7:48