Directed by Bruno Dumont
Cornerhouse, 8 January 2013
Picturesque and perplexing, that’s the sun and moon of it.
The film bewilders, and even has the nerve to make you wait for the privilege, but there is no denying its resplendent beauty. The French countryside shimmers with mysterious colour. These quiet moments, virtual interludes since little much seems to happen, sparked a regret that I’d not yet got around to reading Children of Clay, and in particular those chapters recounting the thought of Pierre Roux, the fellow with the theory of the excremental sun. It might have helped here, an obtuse theology serving to elucidate an obtuse film. Or then again, it might have not. We human creatures are all ambulant suns, Roux wrote. That’s one of his insights.
To read Queneau again would anyway be a good thing, I decided by the close of the film. But it would be best to turn to Pierrot Mon Ami before Children of Clay; it’s shorter.