The blog of author Dennis Cooper

Alain Resnais Day *

* (restored/expanded)


‘Perhaps more than those of any other modern director, the films of Alain Resnais are synonymous with European art cinema. Hailed as groundbreakingly innovative and intellectual, his films are also lampooned as elliptical, poetic, and populated with impeccably dressed characters adrift in inexplicable existential dilemmas. In truth, Resnais’s legacy – soon to be displayed in a traveling retrospective – remains intact.

‘Often crowned the theoretician of the French New Wave, Resnais was in fact the most schooled in actual film production. While his cohorts – Godard, Truffaut, Rohmer, et al. – were busy raving about their favorite directors for Cahiers du Cinema, Resnais had been working as an actor, editor, screenwriter and assistant director on industrials and occasional features throughout the ’40s and ’50s. And his early films were odd 16mm, black-and-white documentary shorts focusing on art and artists, such as Van Gogh, Guernica and Gauguin.

‘Rarely revisited, these shorts, Resnais scholar James Monaco suggests, “strangely mirror the features he was later to shoot in the ’60s,” foreshadowing his complex treatment of documentary, time, memory, postcapitalist imperialism and, most importantly, the role of the artist. Throughout his career, the artist – and, by extension art itself – remains a central concern, either in the form of homages – in On Connaît la Chanson to Dennis Potter, in La Vie Est Un Roman to three French filmmakers, Melies, L’Herbier and Rohmer – or as character ( in Providence); or in the form of creative collaborations (with poet Jean Cayrol in Night and Fog and Muriel, novelists Maguerite Duras and Alain Robbe-Grillet in Hiroshima, Mon Amour and Last Year in Marienbad, respectively, or cartoonist Jules Feiffer in I Want to Go Home).

‘While Godard and others attempted to rewrite cinema through the style of Hollywood B-movies, Resnais’s obsession with memory, time and psychological subjectivity continues a French tradition expressed in both the philosophy of Henri Bergson and in the novels of Marcel Proust. In his documentary short Night and Fog Resnais leads a hallucinatory journey into the Nazi Holocaust through use of archival footage and a poetic subject. In his first feature, Hiroshima, Mon Amour, he turned his technique around, using a faux-documentary style to examine the real and ethical aftershocks of the A-bomb’s blast. By the time of Resnais’s 1961 masterpiece Last Year at Marienbad, history has collapsed into the fashionable relics of the European spa in which his nameless lead characters rewrite the story of their relationship (as well as any expectation of a coherent cinematic syntax) with each new scene.

‘In the almost 40 years hence, Resnais has continued to challenge our comprehension of film language. And the force of his early innovations led the way for many filmmakers to push their own boundaries and assumptions.’ — James Monaco





Alain Resnais @ IMDb
Alain Resnais @ The Criterion Collection
‘Alain Resnais on the death of cinema’
‘How the 90-Year-Old Alain Resnais Preserves the Past’
‘Alain Resnais: vive la différence’
‘The Discreet Obscurity Of Alain Resnais’
Jonathan Rosenbaum interviews Alain Resnais
‘The Game’
‘Alain Resnais and Cahiers du Cinema 1951-1968’
Alain Resnais’s films @ Mondo Digital
Alain Resnais @ TSPDT
‘Alain Resnais and the Enigmatic Art of Memory’
‘Meet the Argentine Jew who shared a nightmare with director Alain Resnais’
‘Cinema After Alain Resnais’
‘Alain Resnais: Time and Thought, Past and Presence’



Alain Resnais interview (1961)

Cinéma selon Alain Resnais: L’inclassable

Recut Alain Resnais – Blow up

Attendees at the French director Alain Resnais funeral in Paris




18 of Alain Resnais’s 51 films

Alain Resnais & Chris Marker Les Statues Meurent Aussi (Statues Also Die) (1953)
‘The film was commissioned to Marker and Alain Resnais by the journal Présence Africaine in 1950. According to Resnais, the original intent was not to make an anticolonial film, but only a film about African art. However when the filmmakers started to do research, they were struck by the fact that African art was exhibited at the ethnological Musée de l’Homme, and not the Louvre like art from elsewhere. As research continued, the disintegrating effects of colonialism became more prominent in the filmmakers’ approach to the subject. The film first premiered in 1953. In 1954 it received the Prix Jean Vigo. Because of the sensitive subject, the sharp criticism of colonialism urged the French National Center of Cinematography to censor the second half of the film until 1963. The first time the full version was publicly screened in France was in November 1968, as part of a program with thematically related short films, under the label “Cinéma d’inquiétude”.’ — collaged

the entire film


Night and Fog (1955)
‘François Truffaut once called Night and Fog “the greatest film ever made.” If you don’t believe me, here is the exact quote: “The effective war film is often the one in which the action begins after the war, when there is nothing but ruins and desolation everywhere: Rossellini’s Germany Year Zero (1947) and, above all, Alain Resnais’ Nuit et brouillard, the greatest film ever made.” Certainly it is one of the two or three most powerful and intelligent nonfiction films ever made (I hesitate to call it a documentary, for reasons that will follow); and it is also, among those many movies that have taken on the loaded subject matter of the Holocaust, perhaps the most aesthetically sophisticated and ethically irreproachable. Night and Fog is, in effect, an antidocumentary: we cannot “document” this particular reality, it is too heinous, we would be defeated in advance. What can we do, then? Resnais’ and Cayrol’s answer is: we can reflect, ask questions, examine the record, and interrogate our own responses. In short, offer up an essay. Moreover, by choosing to compress such enormous subject matter into only a half-hour (think, by contrast, of Claude Lanzmann’s over-nine-hour Shoah, [1985]), the filmmakers force themselves into the epigrammatic concision and synthesis of essayistic reflection.’ — Phillip Lopate


the entire film


La chant de la styrène (1958)
‘This cinematographic project is as poetic as it is technical in its depiction of the realm of plastics from its extraction from Nature to its final product in modern Civilization. The narration, thanks to R. Queneau, reminds of a mid 50’s news real, as featured prior to blockbuster films in France, depicting the glory of Babylon lending a mechanical hand to the so-called imperfect aboriginals. Although this movie is closer to a dry documentary than anything else, a philosophic mind appreciative of essences and existenz will admire the exhaustiveness of the subject matter as well as the keen eye for detail. The film was an order by French industrial group Pechiney to highlight the merits of plastics. The commentary, narrated by Pierre Dux, was written by Raymond Queneau, all in alexandrines.’ — collaged

the entire film


Hiroshima mon amour (1959)
‘“I think that in a few years, in ten, twenty, or thirty years, we will know whether Hiroshima mon amour was the most important film since the war, the first modern film of sound cinema.” That’s Eric Rohmer, in a July 1959 round-table discussion between the members of Cahiers du Cinéma’s editorial staff, devoted to Alain Resnais’ groundbreaking first feature. Rohmer’s remark is in perfect sync with the spirit of the film, which, as he says later in the discussion, “has a very strong sense of the future, particularly the anguish of the future.” Read nearly half a century later, this “anguish of the future” describes the peculiar sensation that runs through all of Resnais’ films, before and after Hiroshima. In fact, it’s the anguish of past, present, and future: the need to understand exactly who and where we are in time, a need that goes perpetually unsatisfied.’ — Kent Jones



the entire film


Last Year at Marienbad (1961)
‘So much critical ink has been shed over Last Year at Marienbad that one might wonder if the flood of commentary, once receded, would take the film along with it. Alain Resnais’ second feature has been lavishly praised and royally slammed; awarded the Golden Lion at the 1961 Venice Film Festival and nominated for an Oscar, but also branded an “aimless disaster” by Pauline Kael; lauded by some as a great leap forward in the battle against linear storytelling and a worthy successor to Hoffmann, Proust, and Borges, dismissed by others as hopelessly old-fashioned. The ambivalence is understandable. Marienbad blatantly toys with our expectations regarding plotline, character development, continuity, conflict, resolution—all those elements we’ve come to expect from a satisfying motion picture. Like its nameless hero, the film relentlessly pursues us with a barrage of assertions while giving us little to hold on to as convincingly true, until in the end, we, like Delphine Seyrig’s equally nameless heroine, have only two choices: remain steadfast in our resistance to the seduction or just plain submit.’ — Mark Polizzotti



The making of …


Muriel (1963)
‘At a press conference at the Venice Film Festival in 1963, Resnais said that his film depicted “the malaise of a so-called happy society. …A new world is taking shape, my characters are afraid of it, and they don’t know how to face up to it.” Muriel has been seen as part of a ‘cinema of alienation’ of the 1960s, films which “betray a sudden desperate nostalgia for certain essential values”. A sense of disruption and uncertainty is constantly emphasised, not least by the style of jump-cutting between events. “The technique of observing absolute chronology while simultaneously following a number of characters and treating even casual passers-by in the same manner as the main characters gives rise to a hallucinatory realism.” At the centre of the film lies the specific theme of the Algerian war, which had only recently been brought to its troubled conclusion, and which it had hitherto been almost impossible for French film-makers to address in a meaningful way.’ — collaged


the entire film


Je t’aime je t’aime (1968)
Je t’aime, je t’aime is a 1968 French science fiction film directed by Alain Resnais. It was listed to compete at the 1968 Cannes Film Festival, but the festival was cancelled due to the countrywide wildcat strike that occurred in May 1968 in France. As with Chris Marker’s La Jetee, a man is selected to participate in time travel experiments to his personal past. However, due to equipment malfunction, he experiences these events out of chronological sequence, cause and effect.’ — ARF




Stavisky (1974)
‘With its high production-values and the popularity of its star actor, the film was enthusiastically received by the public in France, whereas, perhaps for the same reasons, it drew a cool response from many critics who felt that Resnais had betrayed his reputation for intellectual rigor. A British reviewer expressed several of the doubts which were felt by critics: “No one could fail to respond to the elegance of the fashion-plate costumes, the Art Deco interiors, the gleaming custom-built cars, the handsome grand hotels, and so on, all paraded before us to the tinkling thirties-pastiche foxtrot music of Stephen Sondheim… But Resnais’s and Semprún’s Stavisky is just not a very interesting figure… what he represents to the film’s authors is not clear… What the picture does not do is use the Stavisky affair to make any larger comment upon the drift of twentieth-century life, or capitalist society, or even human gullibility… One’s ultimate impression of the film is of an immense gap between the sophistication of its technique and the commonplace simple-minded notions it purveys.”‘ — collaged





Providence (1977)
Providence is no less an affront to the conventions of classical storytelling than, say, Last Year at Marienbad, but the story at the film’s core is disarmingly simple. Over the course of a single sleepless night, a cantankerous aging novelist imagines parts of his next book. These bizarre imagined scenes, starring the same four principal characters, make up the main body of the film. We realize, gradually, that the novelist has modeled these characters on members of his own family—his sons, Claude (Dirk Bogarde) and Kevin (David Warner), Claude’s wife, Sonia (Ellen Burstyn), and his own deceased wife, Molly, who, in this fictional fever-dream, is recast as Claude’s mistress, Helen (Elaine Stritch). The internal narrative, on shaky ground from the start, grows increasingly fractured and febrile as the night goes on. The author commentates on certain shots in gruff voice-over, sounding less like a narrator than a grouchy, confused old man recording DVD commentary for a film he hasn’t seen. The wrong characters suddenly intrude upon scenes like actors bungling their cues. Sets change from shot to shot. Ellen Burstyn’s character, Sonia, a bored housewife at the center of a limp love triangle, delivers ponderous lines like, “Kevin, I’m not overawed by the universe” with deadly intensity. At one point, in a surge of emotion, Sonia moves her lips, but the novelist’s gruff voice comes out like a bark. The jig is up; the strings on these character-puppets are brazenly visible.’ — Gus Reed


the entire film


Mon Oncle d’amerique (1980)
Mon Oncle d’Amérique is an exhilarating fiction that takes the form of a series of dramatic essays about three highly motivated, extremely mixed-up persons. They are René Ragueneau (Gérard Depardieu), a successful textile company executive who is suddenly faced with the loss of his career; Jean Le Gall (Roger Pierre), an ambitious politician with a desire for total power, both private and public; and Janine Garnier (Nicole Garcia), Jean’s mistress and a would-be actress who makes a noble sacrifice only to find that, like most noble sacrifices, it’s a self-defeating gesture. Mon Oncle d’Amérique is a chatty movie, rather like the kind of nineteenth-century novel in which the author is always chiming in to comment on what’s happening and to make observations that instruct and amuse. In this case, the author is Dr. Laborit, whom we see being interviewed in his laboratory by Mr. Resnais. The doctor, one of the people responsible for the development of drugs to control the emotions, is the wise, literate, unflappable host, a sort of Gallic Alistair Cooke, and Mon Oncle d’Amérique is the show.’ — Vincent Canby




Life Is a Bed of Roses (1983)
‘At a glance, Alain Resnais and Jean Gruault would appear to be incompatible collaborators. Gruault worked as a young writer with François Truffaut on Jules and Jim, and subsequently wrote four films for Truffaut during the 1970s, before scripting The Bronte Sisters with Andre Téchiné in 1979 and Mon Oncle d’Amérique with Resnais in 1980. Though Truffaut and Resnais are incomparable filmmakers given each of their disparate styles and thematic interests, Gruault’s pen works for each of them, which is attributable to the writer’s knack for conceiving fantastical circumstances concerning flesh-and-blood folk. After all, what is Jules and Jim if not a whimsical foray into the harsh realities of self-sacrifice during the throes of youthful passions? It’s a film that would be fantasy and escape were it not so intent upon locating how time’s passage doesn’t heal all wounds, but simply opens new ones. Adults are merely adolescents that have gotten bigger; it’s a point further reiterated by 1970’s Gruault-scripted, Truffaut-directed The Wild Child. Children remain at the core of Life Is a Bed of Roses. Nevertheless, its characters are constantly in a state of disbelief or, more to the point, playing pretend. When Simon (Pierre Arditi) appears to have died one evening, Elizabeth (Sabine Azéma), his short-time lover, is overcome with panic and grief, before suddenly realizing that Simon is actually alive and appears to be unharmed. She has no explanation for this; it seems Simon’s heart may have stopped, then started beating again. The specifics are unclear. Equally uncertain are the terms of their relationship, which is revealed to only be two months underway, though the pair acts as if they’re been together for years. Resnais poses these points indirectly; at least, there’s no character designed to provide the exposition up front. Yet neither is there a character of any sort truly in step with what’s unfolding. When the pair meets their close friends, both of whom are clerics, at an archeological dig site, one of them states, “You’re a weird couple.” Resnais might agree, but then the point seems to be that coupling, as an idea, is weird and forces its participants into time warp, where past and present bleed together.’ — Slant Magazine



Melo (1986)
‘On its release the film met with a largely hostile reception from both critics and the public in France. Resnais attributed the film’s failure to the unfamiliarity of the public with the world of the comic-strip and its personalities, which made it difficult to appreciate the confrontation of values which the film explored. The film failed to get distribution either in the United States or in Great Britain. Variety described it as a “stillborn satiric comedy”. The producer of the film, Marin Karmitz, registered a substantial financial loss from the film’s commercial flop, and was unable to engage in further production work for the next 18 months. He nevertheless continued to declare his support for what he regarded as one of Resnais’s most important films, describing it as “a great film about death, and about the death of certain cultures”. I Want to Go Home was shown at the 1989 Venice Film Festival, where it won awards for Alain Resnais and Jules Feiffer. The appearance of the film on DVD two decades after its original release led to some more sympathetic assessments, and recognition of its “blatantly nutty” humor.’ — collaged




Smoking/No Smoking (1993)
‘”Smoking” and “No Smoking” are two segments of the film which are based on closely connected plays. The original plays covered eight separate stories, which have been pared down to three each for these movies. At a certain point in the story of each segment, the five female characters (all played by Sabine Azema) and the four male characters (all played by Pierre Arditi) have their lives skillfully recapped in terms of “what might have happened” if they had made or failed to make certain choices. For example, “No Smoking” focuses chiefly on the relationship between the mild-mannered Miles Coombes and his infinitely more aggressive and ambitious wife, Rowena.’ — collaged



Alain Resnais discusses ‘Smoking/No Smoking’


Same Old Song (2003)
‘Resnais’s film is a faithful adaptation of the operetta by Barde and Yvain. Its original dialogue was retained, even when outdated, and characters are unchanged except in one instance (Arlette); four of the original musical numbers were omitted because they were felt to slow up the action. Orchestration and some additional music was provided by Bruno Fontaine. The entire film was shot in a studio (in Arpajon). Jacques Saulnier, another of Resnais’s longtime collaborators, provided elegant and sumptuous set designs, which together with the glamorous costumes designed by Jackie Budin complement the theatrical style of the acting, and frequent use of long camera shots enable a fluid staging of the musical numbers. Various cinematic devices are used both to intensify the characterizations (especially with close-ups and direct-to-camera asides), but also to distance the film spectator from the theatrical experience (e.g. dissolves to achieve characters’ exits, overhead camera shots for some of the ensemble numbers).’ — collaged




Not on the Lips (2003)
‘It is tempting—and many critics had done so—to become dismayed over the fact that experimental Alain Resnais chose in 2003 to film a 1925 French musical, keeping it pretty much faithful to the original. Not only does the film seem odd coming from such a grand experimenter, but the work itself contains basically silly patter lyrics (generally rhymed in the English subtitles), and the music (the original score by Maurice Yvain) is seldom very interesting. André Barde’s original libretto seems like a lightweight Feydeau farce, yet having little of the frothiness of the boulevard comic author. Like any wealthy Parisian socialite, Gilberte Valandray (Sabine Azéma) loves her business husband, while flirting with several admirers, including the older and rather foolish Faradel (Daniel Prévost) and the young Dada-Cubist-Surrealist artist Charley (Jalil Lespert). Her husband Georges (Pierre Arditi), knowing of his wife’s flirtatious nature, is unworried about the consequences since he is under the strange notion that it is always the first sexual partner that defines a woman, convinced obviously that he is wife’s first lover. Let us just note that this work was quite popular in France, while attacked as mindless froth in England. It had no distribution in the US.’ — Douglas Messerli




Coeurs (2006)
‘Resnais has always been an expressionist, using his settings and compositions to evoke the inner states of his characters. Here, tying expressionism to social critique, he becomes an improbable but unmistakable blood brother of Carl Dreyer.’ — Jonathan Rosenbaum



Wild Grass (2009)
Wild Grass is about an unlikely and fateful chain of events that to a young person might seem like coincidence but to an older one illustrates the likelihood that most of what happens in our lives comes about by sheer accident. This is the latest work by Alain Resnais, who may have learned this by experience: There’s a springtime in your life when you think it should add up and make sense, and an autumn when you think, the hell with it, anything can happen. Resnais has been making films since the dawn of the New Wave: Hiroshima, Mon Amour (1959) and Last Year at Marienbad (1961). Now he’s 88. Preparing to write, I decided not to mention his age, in fear that some readers might think a director that age couldn’t possibly be engaging. But praise must be given. Wild Grass is carefree and anarchic, takes bold risks, spins in unexpected directions.’ — Roger Ebert




You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet (2012)
‘Mr. Resnais, who recently turned 91, has been exploring the slippery line between truth and illusion for a very long time, in playful and in somber moods. You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet has a little of both, and is a testament to the filmmaker’s undiminished vitality. The title evokes a piece of ancient, almost mythic film history: that surreal, Orphic moment, associated in the popular mind with The Jazz Singer, when pictures began to talk. It also has a more primal meaning. The world and the people in it might grow old, but the imagination has the power to make everything new. And what look like artifacts of the past — literary chestnuts, archaic stories, half-forgotten recordings — are actually signs pointing toward the future.’ — A.O. Scott


Interview with the actress Sabine Azéma




p.s. Hey. ** _Black_Acrylic, Ha ha. Too early happy birthday to you, and I’ll match that with a timely one if you pony up on the date. Do pray tell about that expanded Actress LP. It does sound mighty tempting. ** Dominik, Hi!!! Agreed! Yes, happily the mental institution had good security. But there were some sleepless nights, let me tell you. Right, they want us to pay them not to advertise at you. Fucking hell. And no surprise, I guess. What a world. No card yet. I’m going to call my bank and be a calm before a storm of belligerency and see if that gets me some news. Happy b’day late to your mom! I guess you weren’t with her. Did you celebrate from afar? Love making me not have eaten that Vietnamese sandwich yesterday that looked and tasted so good but apparently wasn’t, G. ** Jack Skelley, Two days into the week High to you you you. Chris was very fun and charming, and I adored him, but he was also a heroin addict with a serious chemical imbalance, so there was that. Lewis was a hero. I think I read somewhere that they erected a statue of him along the river somewhere? The Gaza thing is so horrifying, and the powerlessness, other than to go to a protest to make yourself try to feel better, is devastating. Thanks about the Hobart thang. Love you but probably not Taylor Swift although we will see. ** Nika Mavrody, Really? Where? ** Reverend Darby 🎩(pretend that’s one of those Reverend hats), If I had come across a gif of the Coraline tunnel, it would have been there, you can trust me on that. Oh, gosh, ultra-massive luck partially manifested by crossed fingers coming your way at high speed on both the DMV and Spencers fronts. So … what happened? My parents were from the South — well, Texas, if that counts — and, yeah, get outta there. I think we finish the editing today. I’m spacing on the software. Zac does the keyboard stuff. Um, maybe Da Vinci something? But maybe not. I’ll register the software’s title today. I get and share your WOOO (and I’m not even kidding). ** Steve Erickson, Well, it is possible for a song to be both good and just a load of noise. Luck galore on the Wire front. Right, you’re vegetarian, duh, I forgot. Granted, I hated fish even when I ate creatures, but soy fish is just nasty. ** Bill, You would reckon there is such a helpful time tunnel. But, if it has a portal in Paris, I can’t find it (yet). ‘Paprika’, what a lovey film. Cool. You’re leaving town again? You’re wild. ** Misanthrope, Oh, you’re right, I should have used colonoscopy as one of my search terms, damn. Jesus, more leg coming off. I feel for your cousin. Inches do matter. Yikes. ** Matt N., Hi, Matt. Yeah, good to have you back. Thanks for reading ‘Try’, obviously. I’m just up to finishing the film and nothing else. We should have the editing done by tomorrow, and then there’s all the technical stuff to do. I’m honestly not a big fan of Rechy’s stuff. I guess the famous one, ‘City of Night’, probably is the start point? My bf didn’t confess to the thing with Gus until we had broken up, so I didn’t get boiling mad at Gus, although it’s true I haven’t felt particularly kindly towards him ever since. I have not seen the new Breillat? Should I? I imagining so. Awesome Tuesday! ** Nick., Hey! Thought gathering is an imperative phase, so, understood. Obviously I hope your nasal drip de-crazifies at the very least. No, I can’t imagine, but the good thing is not being able to imagine makes trying quite exciting. Memes, wow, it’s getting serious. I’m just film film, nothing else, really, I’m a bore to anyone who doesn’t want to hear about the film. But I should have another life back soon. Thanks for the Red Velvet hookup. I’m about to zoom out the door, but there’s later + it + me. I’m well, and you get well! ** Audrey, Hi, Audrey. Yes, I’ve seen the similarly named porn, but not for many years. I remember thinking it was at least fairly smart. Apparently Thom Anderson loses his shit if you refer to Los Angeles as L.A. He’s very classical and old fashioned about the place, or about its name at least. ‘In the Mouth of Madness’ used to be my favorite John Carpenter film, and maybe it still is. I have done a post on Wiseman, yes. Let me see if I can find it. Oops, almost all of the video imbeds in his post have died since I made it. Damn. I’ll have to restore and republish it since it’s pretty useless at the moment. So, I will, and watch out for that. He actually lives here in Paris. He lives at this artists residency that I lived at for the first 8 or so years after I moved here. I go over there sometimes to see friends because it has an excellent cafe, and I’ve seen Wiseman a few times. He’s incredible: he’s in his mid-90s, I think, but he jets around like a teenager. Yeah, he’s super great. I love talking with you too. I look forward to it daily. It’s a truly great pleasure. So right back atcha. Love, me. ** Okay. Today I’ve gone back into the distant archives and found and restored and expanded the blog’s old Alain Resnais Day for you. I love his works, and one of them, ‘Providence’, is in my top five all-time favorite films. Hope you enjoy the show. See you tomorrow.


  1. Dominik


    I don’t know if I’d been able to live there, to be honest. I’m paranoid enough as it is, haha. I would’ve gone crazy.

    Shit… I’m so sorry about your card. Trying to sort these kinds of crap out is always such a pain. My health insurance card hasn’t arrived either. I’ve sent out a bunch of emails, but nothing’s happening, so I might have to make an appointment and try to see what I can do in person. I really, really don’t want to.

    Unfortunately, we didn’t celebrate my mom’s birthday together. We’ll make up for it when I go home for Christmas. Not too long now.

    Ugh, no! Sending well-wishes to your stomach!

    Love unfucking the heating system in our apartment (first I don’t have a coat, now we don’t have proper heating – what’s happening?! This coming winter is out to get me!), Od.

  2. Misanthrope

    Dennis, The crazy thing about my cousin’s leg(s) thing is the…jokes just keep coming. It’s hard not to make them. My first observation was, “Well, she finally lost some weight.” Oof. Yeah, mean. But what can you do, you know?

    Seems she’s doing well though a bit down in the dumps with the new info about taking more of the one leg and now potentially losing the other.

    I just can’t with her. We’re not close or anything (we’re extremely close with her daughter, my second cousin, who used to spend all her time here when she was an infant/toddler/child/teen and who still comes by and calls all the time), but we’ve always advised her to take better care of herself. She just wouldn’t listen and would let herself get run down until she was in hospital. It’s really frustrating.

    I didn’t even tell you that she’s also legally blind from the diabetes too. She’s only like 60. She has no peripheral vision anymore.

    Hey, I hope you’re well. And I hope that editing gets done once and for all. Godspeed on that.

  3. _Black_Acrylic

    My DVD service is back up and running and they have quite a good Alain Resnais selection there too. No Providence sadly, but maybe I’ll go for something else by him instead. Stavisky perhaps?

    The Actress album arrived today and is a definite winner. I don’t play chess myself so I cannot grasp the concept behind it, but the artwork is beautiful and the pressing excellent too. Darren Cunningham was formally a professional football player for West Brom but his career was cut short by injury. I’d say that sport’s loss is very much our gain.

  4. Tosh Berman

    Dennis in today’s Guardian, there is an article about abandoned amusement parks. Here:

    And as much as possible, I avoid the L.A. terminology and always say and write Los Angeles. What Thom says makes great sense to me. And sound-wise, I love how Los Angeles rolls out of my mouth. It’s a beautiful-sounding name.

    Alain rules. I love his work, and I haven’t seen everything at this time. With the assistance of Criterion, Kanopy, and others, I hope to see more of his work.

  5. Jack Skelley

    Copernicus – Re: the magnetic charms of a Chris L & where they’d comport within a (universal/human) taxonomy of lovers/partners/Lucasian objects: One (OK, I) seem to grasp forever. A gendered or sexualized system. Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edging. Just watched video of Sabrina-moderated Disneyland lecture at Centre Pompidou wherein Cal Arts’ Norman Klein states of Pirates of the Caribbean, “I first saw it on Acid.” I wrote my Congressperson about Gaza. I went to a silent auction raising funds for relief at Stories. Performative actions, perhaps. But the place was packed. Young people especially see through the MSM BS. Sorry for this mish-mash… Bon Mercredi ! – Ptolemy…

  6. Darby 👨‍🎤🎥🌛

    Ok so for now on, consider me your facial piercing, slash sex toy hookup because I GOT THE JOB WORKING AT SPENCERS WOOOOOOOO
    As for the DMV I am waiting for a call back.

    Im so happy I could jump into a fireplace, im kidding, but ya know this 12 year old girl in the book about Salem witches I’m reading, did that.
    I’m wondering if they were psychotic
    Look, a long time ago I was creating my own fairytale and I wrote pages about these little Nymph-esqe creatures called “PruneGillies/Gillos/Gillea I had created. I must have thought I was the next Tolkien or something.
    Its kind of funny because, essentially, they were hyperactive dwarfs who would never sleep and would dance all day and go insane due to the lack of sleep. They’d become so crazy, and then, when they finally culminated in mania or something they would jump into a fire or rip the skin from their throats.
    They aren’t human.
    Now looking back it doesn’t really sound like a fantasy character, just a personification of some kind of Psychosis, hahah!
    Have you ever wanted to write something fantasy based? Like not Tolkien but more grim?

    • Darby 👨‍🎤🎥🌛

      IF you don’t know what a Spencer’s is, they sell sex toys in the back and facial piercings aswell.
      that sounded so weird without context. But I have a 30% discount woo.

  7. Nick.

    Hi! Right I guess it is getting serious huh lucky me. And that’s good do you feel like your editing skills have enhanced as you add more hours to your 10,000 to master total? Hum actually do your writer skills cross over or is it an entirely different skill set all together? I also have a new evil genius plan to find some way to get into an artist residency of some sort so all my nonsense can be funded so at least part of my apocalypse pop star persona can begin. I need pole dancing lesson and sword fighting training and I’d love to learn vada on someone else’s dime which is a crazy fighting style that’d be cool to know. More doing same amount of thinking and ill be on a screen near you pretty soon Im convinced. I’ll be back you stay well.

  8. Audrey

    Hi Dennis,

    Interesting about the LA/Los Angeles distinction. I think i’ll switch to Los Angeles just to be safe, and as Tosh said it feels nice rolling off the tongue. In the Mouth of Madness is my favorite Carpenter too! I could never get sick of it, It’s one of the coolest premises ever executed perfectly. I can’t wait to see the updated Wiseman post! I knew he lived in Paris, but that’s incredible you’ve seen him before. It’s very comforting to hear he’s still lively in his old age. He seems very driven, given how prolific his output is. I’m glad you enjoy talking with me too! I recently picked up a book called Found Poetry that I’m excited to start reading. I heard about it in an interview with Radu Jude, whose latest film is one of my favorites of the decade. He articulates the poeticism of social media in a way i struggle to. I think I forgot to ask how your weekend was! Did you do anything fun/interesting?

    Much Love,

  9. ellie

    Dennis, hi! I’ve been meaning to drop by to say hello, but a mix of nerves and overall craziness got in way a bit. How are you, how’s everything going?

    I reread Zac’s Drug Binge today which was a ton of fun! I had mi-gu on shuffle which… didn’t completely mesh? most of the gif fictions especially feel like they come with their own emotional/4d soundtrack, but there were moments where the songs felt like a charmingly-off dug which was a little bit special. Have people set your books to music? I always guessed NIN’s closer was sort of cheesy takeoff, but it would be cool if there were others. I want Pan Daijing or Philip Corner or someone to write an opera almost.

    Any movie news? Idk how it is in France but it’s getting to be jacket weather here. Hope you’re keeping warm!

    (Oh PS I was too shy to respond sort of but your last message made me giddy for an entire week. I feel the same whenever I see any of your stuff honestly, and it was really kind and lovely you. Thanks so much!)

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