The blog of author Dennis Cooper

Delphine Seyrig Day


‘Thanks to the two most famous roles of her career—the enigmatic woman referred to only as A in Alain Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad and the middle-aged widow stuck in domestic routine in Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles—Delphine Seyrig is often thought of as an inscrutable performer. But this versatile French actress was also capable of great emotional immediacy and openness in her roles.

‘The daughter of an archaeologist, Seyrig was a cosmopolite at a young age, having already lived in Lebanon, New York, and the south of France by the time she was twenty. She then studied acting in both France and the United States (at the Actors Studio). Her first screen performance was in the 1958 beat generation short Pull My Daisy, also featuring Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, shot in New York. A few years later, Last Year at Marienbad—in which Seyrig plays a woman wandering the fever-dream-like interior of a château, where she may or may not have been before—made her an icon of the French New Wave.

‘Seyrig would go on appear in films by François Truffaut (Stolen Kisses, one of her most romantic parts), William Klein (she was never more delightfully off-kilter than in the satiric Mr. Freedom), Luis Buñuel (as the ever-gracious hostess in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie), Joseph Losey, Jacques Demy, Akerman, and other important film directors of the sixties and seventies.’ — Criterion Collection

‘Delphine Seyrig was born into an intellectual Protestant family. Her Alsatian father, Henri, was the director of the Beirut Archaeological Institute and later France’s cultural attaché in New York during World War II. Her mother, Hermine de Saussure, was Swiss, and the niece of linguist/semiologist Ferdinand de Saussure.

‘Delphine was the sister of composer Francis Seyrig. Her family moved from Lebanon to New York when she was ten. When the family returned to Lebanon in the late 1940s, she was sent to school at the Collège Protestant de Jeunes Filles, which had been founded by Protestant pacifists and social justice activists in 1938. She attended the school from 1947 to 1950.

‘As a young woman, Seyrig studied acting at the Comédie de Saint-Étienne, training under Jean Dasté, and at Centre Dramatique de l’Est. She appeared briefly in small roles in the 1954 TV series Sherlock Holmes. In 1956, she returned to New York and studied at the Actors Studio. In 1958 she appeared in her first film, Pull My Daisy. In New York she met director Alain Resnais, who asked her to star in his film Last Year at Marienbad. Her performance brought her international recognition and she moved to Paris. Among her roles of this period is the older married woman in François Truffaut’s Baisers volés (1968).

‘During the 1960s and 1970s, Seyrig worked with directors including Truffaut, Luis Buñuel, Marguerite Duras, and Fred Zinnemann, as well as Resnais. She achieved recognition for both her stage and film work, and was named best actress at the Venice Film Festival for her role in Resnais’ Muriel ou Le temps d’un retour (1963). She played many diverse roles, and because she was fluent in French, English and German, she appeared in films in all three languages, including a number of Hollywood productions.

‘Seyrig may be most widely known for her role as Colette de Montpelier in Zinnemann’s 1973 film The Day of the Jackal. In turn, perhaps her most demanding role was in Chantal Akerman’s 1976 film Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, in which she was required to adopt a highly restrained, rigorously minimalistic mode of acting to convey the mindset of the title character.

‘Seyrig was a major feminist figure in France. Throughout her career, she used her celebrity status to promote women’s rights. The most important of the three films she directed was the 1977 Sois belle et tais-toi (Be Pretty and Shut Up), which included actresses Shirley MacLaine, Maria Schneider, and Jane Fonda, speaking frankly about the level of sexism they had to deal with in film industry. She also directed with Carole Roussopoulos an adaptation of the SCUM Manifesto by Valerie Solanas. In 1982 Seyrig was the key member of the group that established the Paris-based “Centre Audiovisuel Simone de Beauvoir”, which maintains a large archive of women’s filmed and recorded work and produces work by and about women. In 1989, Seyrig was given a festival tribute at Créteil International Women’s Film Festival, France.

‘Seyrig died in Paris in 1990, aged 58, from ovarian cancer (although some sources simply state “lung disease” or “following a long illness”). She was interred there in Cimetière du Montparnasse.’ — collaged





Delphine Seyrig Filmography
Delphine Seyrig page @ Facebook
Delphine Seyrig: The Eternal Return
Delphine Seyrig @ The Fashion Spot
‘delphine seyrig is fucking amazing’ @ chained & perfumed
Delphine Seyrig @ Wikipedia
Mais qui est Delphine Seyrig?
Delphine Seyrig @ The Criterion Collection
Audio: Le secret professionnel de Delphine Seyrig et des divas en voie de disparition
À propos de «Delphine Seyrig, portrait d’une comète»
Dephine Seyrig, de Marienbad au féminisme
Delphine Seyrig @ Find a Grave



Delphine Seyrig interview (in French)

Delphine Seyrig on feminism (in French)

Delphine Seyrig sings ‘Une fourmi et moi’ (1971)

Agnès Varda avec l’actrice Delphine Seyrig (1972)

Tombe de Delphine Seyrig au cimetière de Montparnasse



from Sight and Sound


19 of Delphine Seyrig’s 50 films

Robert Frank and Alfred Leslie Pull My Daisy (1959)
‘In January 1959 Robert Frank and Alfred Leslie started production on Pull My Daisy. It was a defining moment for Robert: a statement of an artist continuing along his own path, seemingly changing horses in midstream. His book of photographs The Americans had just been published the year before. As a still photographer, Robert had previous directorial experience working with models and settings for assignments and advertising work in the magazines. He had also started a few experimental personal short films. Pull My Daisy brought together neighbors and painters from the local downtown art world who had agreed to perform in a scene from a Jack Kerouac play (the Beat Generation which was never produced). It was an odd mixture of beat poets, Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, and Peter Orlovsky, who played themselves, and painters such as Larry Rivers playing Neal Cassady (Milo), his wife Carolyn played by ‘Beltiane’ who in reality was a famous European actress Delphine Seyrig (Last Year At Marienbad). Others in the cast included the Bishop ‘Mooney Peebles’, really Dick Bellamy, an artist’s dealer and gallery director, the bishop’s mother played by Alice Neel, a painter, the Bishop’s sister played by Sally Gross, a dancer, musician David Amram playing jazz legend Mezz McGillicuddy, and a touching appearance by Robert Frank’s little son Pablo. After the film was edited, Jack Kerouac came in and recorded a voice-over narration, which is a classic in spontaneous improvisation.’ — John Cohen

the entire film


Alain Resnais Last Year at Marienbad (1961)
‘Hailed as a triumph of the modernist aesthetic, Last Year at Marienbad is formally severe and utterly modernist. Its characters are nameless and locked in a zone of their own, a zone that may not even be of this world. At a baroque resort, an unnamed man “X” tries to convince an unnamed woman “A” that they had an affair last year and agreed to meet at the resort and leave her current paramour “M”. She doesn’t remember him at all, but what he tells her has the power to create a past for her and to blend it into her present. They are all caught up in a surreal loop of disjointed time. The characters move like somnambulists through a hermetically sealed world that seems totally surreal. Reading the obsessively thorough screenplay, one gets the feeling that Alain Robbe-Grillet is striving to remain faithful to some unnamed rubric whose invisible influence shapes every move his characters make.’ — Senses of Cinema




Alain Resnais Muriel, or The Time of Return (1963)
‘Alain Resnais’s Muriel, or The Time of Return, the director’s follow-up to Last Year at Marienbad, is as radical a reflection on the nature of time and memory as its predecessor. The always luminous Delphine Seyrig stars as an antique shop owner and widow in Boulogne-sur-Mer, whose past comes back to haunt her when a former lover reenters her life. Meanwhile, her stepson is tormented by his own ghosts, related to his service in France’s recently ended war in Algeria. Featuring a multilayered script by Jean Cayrol and inventively edited to evoke its middle-class characters’ political and personal realities, the fragmented, emotionally powerful Muriel reminds viewers that the past is always present.’ — Criterion Collection




Joseph Losey Accident (1967)
‘Here we have the most successful film by the strongest English exponent of the ‘Art’ picture in the ’60s, Joseph Losey. When Accident came out it was heralded as a masterpiece, the finest work yet from the American left-wing director who started over again in England after being blacklisted in Hollywood. As much a Harold Pinter creation as Losey’s, Accident is an intriguing drama among some unusually tight-lipped people, perhaps weighed too heavily in the direction of Meaningful Emptiness, but always engaging and emotionally suspenseful.’ — DVD Savant




Francois Truffaut Stolen Kisses (1968)
‘”[It is] quite simply a film that hopes to resemble a song,” Truffaut said of Stolen Kisses, and it was a measure of Truffaut’s dedication to cinema (or indifference to the world) that he produced this insouciant work as Paris erupted in the student riots of 1968. Kisses sends the director’s alter ego Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Léaud), now a gawky 20-year-old, on a twin search for the perfect woman and the ideal job — he must chercher la femme and chercher le boulot. Kicked out of the army, Antoine finds employment as an apprentice detective, and is hired by a man to find out why nobody likes him. The chic, vivacious Delphine Seyrig plays the unhappy man’s wife, with whom a bedazzled Antoine falls head over heels in love. Watch for the sly opening homage to Psycho, along with other typically Truffautian cinephilic jests. “Strong, sweet, wise and explosively funny” (Vincent Canby, The New York Times); “Entirely beguiling … tender, hilarious, graceful, reticent” (Penelope Houston).’ — TIFF




Luis Buñuel The Milky Way (1969)
‘The first of what Luis Buñuel later proclaimed a trilogy (along with The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie and The Phantom of Liberty) about “the search for truth,” The Milky Way (La voie lactee) daringly deconstructs contemporary and traditional views on Catholicism with ribald, rambunctious surreality. Two French beggars, present-day pilgrims en route to Spain’s holy city of Santiago de Compostela, serve as Buñuel’s narrators for an anticlerical history of heresy, told with absurdity and filled with images that rank among Buñuel’s most memorable (stigmatic children, crucified nuns) and hilarious (Jesus considering a good shave). A diabolically entertaining look at the mysteries of fanaticism, The Milky Way remains a hotly debated work from cinema’s greatest skeptic.’ — The Criterion Collection



Jacques Demy Donkey Skin (1970)
‘Jacques Demy’s original musical fantasy Donkey Skin offers many delights, from its opulent set and costume design to the luminous Catherine Deneuve in a dual role (playing both the Queen and her daughter Princess “Donkey Skin”) and Jean Marais, still effortlessly commanding the screen a quarter century after Jean Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast. In fact, this film allows Demy to pay loving tribute to Cocteau, one of his favorite filmmakers, whose spirit permeates almost every frame. Demy wrote both Donkey Skin’s screenplay and lyrics directly for the screen, collaborating with his longtime musical collaborator Michel Legrand, who scored ten of Demy’s fifteen features, including The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. In this film, Seyrig is given, metaphorically, only one note to sing as the Princess’s sassy supernatural helper. But Demy seems less interested in giving the Lilac Fairy any kind of a resonant characterization than in paying homage to an even earlier (French) tradition of film fantasy, namely, the pioneering special effects of Georges Méliès (1861–1938). Note the many times the Lilac Fairy “magically” changes costumes during her patter song: Demy, like his distant predecessor, simply stops the camera, has Seyrig change costume, then continues shooting.’ — Jim’s Reviews




Harry Kümel Daughters of Darkness (1971)
‘Made in 1971, Daughters of Darkness feels a lot more like Nicolas Roeg’s thriller Don’t Look Now than anything Hammer was making at the time. Set in an off-season Belgian seaside resort hotel, the film has a very small cast and a relatively low body count, but it has an air of gloom and doom and strange surrealism permeating the entire film. Director Harry Kümel used historical events of real so-called vampires and weaved them in with a story about very disturbed individuals who seem perfectly happy at first but then their true proclivities come to the surface when a vampire countess and her familiar. Daughters of Darkness lacks the violence and gore of many of its vampire contemporaries but ends up being exceedingly more troubling and interesting. The vampires are shown to be the evils of high-society, the excesses of Western aristocracy turned into blood rituals. Countess Bathory isn’t depicted as deviant because she’s a lesbian but rather because she manipulates and corrupts the youth of the world for her own use. Ilona isn’t her friend but her slave, and Valerie isn’t a love interest but a prize to be won. It’s a strange, troubling, and thought-provoking movie.’ — The Nerdist




Luis Bunuel The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972)
The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie is an episodic savaging of the well-to-do French middle-class. An old surrealist, Bunuel builds a puzzle box of a movie, full of stories within stories, dreams within dreams. At several points, we cut to one of his dyspeptic gentlemen waking from sleep, horrified by what he–and by extension, we–just saw. Amusingly, the dreams often go several scenes back, including another guy waking up in bed, so that the second dreamer was actually imagining the first dreamer and his disturbing vision. Not unlike watching a film where the characters might suddenly become aware they are being watched. Or if the viewer could turn around and discover that he or she is being filmed.’ — Criterion Collection




Don Siegel The Black Windmill (1974)
The Black Windmill is a 1974 British thriller directed by Don Siegel, based on the novel Seven Days to a Killing by Clive Egleton and starring Michael Caine as MI-6 agent John Tarrant whoes son is kidnapped. The ransom is half a million pound sterlings in uncut diamonds which is the exact amount that MI-6 prepared for funding some operation. Only special service personnel is aware of the diamonds, and Tarrant’s boss Cedric Harper (Donald Pleasence) suspects that Tarrant himself staged the kidnapping.’ — imfdb



Chantal Akerman Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1976)
Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is Chantal Akerman’s masterpiece, a mesmerizing study of stasis and containment, time and domestic anxiety. Stretching its title character’s daily household routine in long, stark takes, Akerman’s film simultaneously allows viewers to experience the materiality of cinema, its literal duration, and gives concrete meaning to a woman’s work. We watch, for three hours and twenty-one minutes, as Jeanne cooks, takes a bath, has dinner with her adolescent son, shops for groceries, and looks for a missing button. Each gesture and sound becomes imprinted in our mind, and as we are lulled by familiar rhythms and expected behavior, we become complicit with Jeanne’s desire for order. The perfect parity between Jeanne’s predictable schedule and Akerman’s minimalist precision deflects our attention from the fleeting signs of Jeanne’s afternoon prostitution. They nevertheless loom at the edge of our mind, gradually building unease. Jeanne Dielman constitutes a radical experiment with being undramatic, and paradoxically with the absolute necessity of drama. Made in 1975, when the artist was only twenty-five years old, the film upped the ante on neorealism’s mandate of “social attention.” Akerman’s real-time, matter-of-fact presentation of a woman’s everyday seemed to mock the timidity of the neorealist demand for “a ninety-minute film showing the life of a man to whom nothing happens.” In postwar film and video, banal kitchen scenes (in Umberto D., 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her, Semiotics of the Kitchen) are signs of an inclusive realism, a new politicized energy. Akerman’s “images between images,” those scenes neglected in conventional representation, gave this impulse a strong feminist accent. But more than a corrective to traditional cinema, Jeanne Dielman is a lesson in structural economy: the full visibility given to daily tasks exacts, as its cost, the more sensational scenes of Jeanne’s prostitution. These encounters last the time it takes to cook dinner.’ — The Criterion Collection


Jeanne Dielman (1975) filming


Marguerite Duras India Song (1975)
‘Of all the films that Marguerite Duras wrote and directed over two decades – from La Musica (co-directed with Paul Seban) in 1966 to Les Enfants in 1985 – India Song was the only one to enjoy any sort of popular success. A small box-office hit in France in the mid 1970s, it remains a minor cult movie to this day. It is easy or, rather, impossible not to be seduced by the film’s lustrous visual surface and its deceptively hummable tango-inflected score. A quintet of swooningly gorgeous actors, led by an impossibly chic Delphine Seyrig, drift about in a lavish Art Nouveau villa. They sip champagne from crystal goblets, puff languorously on cigarettes and dance sedately to Carlos D’Alessio’s catchy tunes. They slip, at odd moments, out of their clothes (courtesy of Cerruti 1881) to pose in some vaguely eroticised tableaux vivants. None of the actors speak; instead, voices from off-screen comment on the action in hushed, reverent tones. Whoever these unknown speakers may be, they seem to enjoy the wondrously outré spectacle as much as we do. To quote David Thomson, India Song has “levels of nouveau roman and fashion show” that no fan of hardcore cinematic glamour could hope to resist.’ — Senses of Cinema



Marguerite Duras à propos de “India Song”


Carole Roussopoulos & Delphine Seyrig SCUM Manifesto (1976)
‘Scum Manifesto is the title of a 1976 short film based on Valerie Solanas’s manifesto/book of the same name, and directed by Carole Roussopoulos and Delphine Seyrig. In the film, Seyrig reads several passages from a French translation of Solanas’s manifesto.’ — collaged

the entire film


Marguerite Duras Her Venetian Name in Deserted Calcutta (1976)
‘A deeply sensitive introspection around the themes of presence and absence, memories, life, love, death and permanence. Not a movie to see, but sensations to live. Something about what can’t be said or show. If you don’t like it, your are only half living. If you like it, you are already half dead. A unique magical object. Sad and beautiful. Pure poetry.’ — IMDb

the entire film


Marguerite Duras Baxter, Vera Baxter (1977)
‘Writer-director Marguerite Duras creates a languid drama on the travails of love. In contrast to the slow-moving tale about the love life of a lethargic woman, Vera Baxter (Claudine Gabay), a long-suffering mom of three, there’s the snazzy flute score by Carlos D’Alessio that plays throughout and it starkly contrasts the downbeat story.’ — Dennis Schwartz


the entire film


Ulrike Ottinger Freak Orlando (1981)
Freak Orlando is a trip into what cinema can be if you are uncompromising enough to be daring: A feast for the eyes and a chain of creative explosions of art direction, mise-en-scène, costumes, situations, associations, citations, imaginations and insanity. Based loosely on the Virginia Woolf novel Orlando and Tod Browning’s 1932 cult film Freaks, the film sends the unique Magdalena Montezuma (who you might know from the films of Rainer Werner Fassbinder or Werner Schroeter) on a journey of constant transformation and change. Some stations of her odyssey are a nightly park filled with illuminated electric stoves, a banquet on the top of a gasometer, a psychiatric home and, finally, a contest for the ugliest people of “Freak City”. Ottinger uses the freak as a metaphor for society’s outsiders when she draws from art and film history, sociology, women’s and gay rights and creates a truly queer exploration of sex, gender and the body. She uses these as sites of cinematic constructions and fantasies. Bearded women and self-scourging leather gays are accompanied by Japanese dancers and so-called midgets. Disabled bodies, Siamese twins and old men in black wedding dresses belong to Ottinger’s enigmatically crazy inventory as much as crucified opera singers, hermaphrodites and naked servants who are all part of a festive congregation in an abandoned, half-filled indoor pool. All this is arranged as a form of theatrical performance that is seen through the camera eye of a photographer and arranged as tableaux of great attraction and beauty that are cinematically orchestrated like an opera.’ — Toby Ashraf

the entire film


Delphine Seyrig Be Pretty and Shut Up (1981)
‘In 1976, French actress Delphine Seyrig interviewed 22 actresses (Ellen Burstyn, Maria Schneider, Juliet Berto, Jane Fonda, Shirley McLaine, et al) about their role in the movie industry, and the demand to “be beautiful and shut up”.’ — MUBI





Chantal Akerman Golden Eighties (1986)
‘After her successes in the 1970s, Chantal Akerman turned toward the pleasures of popular cinema with a playful series of comedies and love stories, culminating in this extraordinary multi-character musical, set entirely in a shopping mall. A stylish, bittersweet look at the romantic tribulations of an assortment of shop owners and retail workers, the film evokes The Umbrellas of Cherbourg in its charm, but with a distinctly feminist bent. With songs co-written by Akerman and Marc Herouet, the film leads us through the tangled predicaments of clothing-shop owner Jeanne (Delphine Seyrig), who finds herself torn when her long-lost G.I. love, Eli (filmmaker John Berry), looks her up after 40 years; her son Robert (Nicolas Tronc), who is infatuated with Lili (Fanny Cottençon), a salon manager who in turn is having an affair with its owner, married gangster Monsieur Jean (Jean-François Balmer); hairdresser Mado (pop singer Lio), who has a crush on Robert; and coffee-bar proprietor Sylvie (Myriam Boyer), who pines for her boyfriend who’s gone to work in America. For this utterly delightful passion project, which she described as a postmodern cross between women’s cinema, Jewish literature, and musicals, Akerman collaborated with an extraordinary/unlikely dream team of writers—Desperately Seeking Susan screenwriter Leora Barish, veteran Truffaut/Rivette/Resnais scenarist Jean Gruault, former Cahiers du Cinéma critic Pascal Bonitzer, and filmmaker Henry Bean (The Believer).’ — Film Society Lincoln Center

the entire film


Chantal Akerman Letters Home (1986)
‘Akerman’s rarely screened adaptation of Rose Leiman Goldemberg’s off-Broadway play, based on Sylvia Plath’s letters to her mother, is a compelling example of stage-to-film transcription. Enacted by Jeanne Dielman star Delphine Seyrig and her niece Coralie Seyrig, this exposition of one of the director’s key themes—the bond between mother and daughter—is rich with personal resonance.’ — BAM


the entire film



p.s. Hey. ** H, Hi, Good morning to you. Thank you about the post. I think they make me feel similarly. ‘Kustom Kar Kommandos’ is one of my two favorite Angers along with ‘Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome’. May your day at least as one as mine (fingers crossed). ** Liquoredgoat, Hi there, Douglas. I liked that one too. Yep. Thanks, buddy. I hope you’re more than weathering the Xmas -> New Years transition. ** David Ehrenstein, Hello. Ha. Had he not choked, gee, can you imagine? ** Joakim, Hi, Joakim! I hope you had an awesome Xmas and general Stockholm time. It sounds like you did. Philip’s back where you just came from now, I think, but I will pass along your hi at the next rehearsals, although you will probably have had time to give him a direct hi by then since that’s not until June. Thank you, I’m so glad you liked the minis. Holy Jesus or whoever, how is that I knew nothing about Macrophilia until just now. The video is insane. Okay, that stuff is getting its own blog post for sure. Huh. Any way to see your manifesto? Oh, wait, it’s probably in Danish or Swedish, right? Anyway, thanks for the mindblowing introduction. My Xmas was barely extant, which was totally fine with me. Just some buche eating and … nothing else. Those mouthfuls of cake were literally the only difference between it and the days before and after. Godfather, you, awesome! Have a sweet day! Love, me. ** Tosh Berman, Thank you on behalf of the miniaturizers, Tosh. ** Sypha, Ah, so I guess the NIN lived up to your hopes. The broadness of your tastes always flummoxes and impresses me. You’re like the Red Cross of music aficionados. ** Jeff J, Hi, Jeff. Thank you about Elie. It’s very haunting. Glad the post drew you in. Sure, let’s Skype when I finish the mss. It’ll be a little while due to a bus period, but I look forward to finishing it and conferring. Oh, that’s funny, I have a Robert Frank film in the post today. I did not know about the Grandrieux/Frank connection. That is very curious. There’s a new book in English about Grandrieux’s work that is apparently vey good and that I’m excited to read. Nice haul: the Robert Frank. He’s incredible, obviously. ** Dóra Grőber, Hi! Really happy you liked the post! If you ever see Irvine Welsh do a reading, at least if you’re not Scottish, you sort of have to pretend you’re listening to music with a bit of narration included in it with with the slang and his serious Scottish accent. I haven’t read ‘If You Liked School, You’ll Love Work’, no. I really love his early books, everything up through ‘Marabou Stork Nightmares’, but the he wrote a few books that I thought were kind of meh so I stopped automatically reading his books, and I should go try a more recent one, the one you’re reading. No, there will be peace in my famnily. One of my brothers is a monster, and he’s the source of all of the inter-sibling problems, and I don’t think he’ll ever change. Yesterday we got leads on some possible actors from a film director friend, and I think we’re going to through the materials he gave us today. We have a meeting with our producer next Wednesday, and, ideally, at that point, we’ll have a casting director — which is what we need to be able start — and we can immediately start setting up auditions, I hope. Tate is the young blond guy on AHS, right? I’ve only watched maybe three episodes of that series. But if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, there are, like, millions of animated gifs with him in it, I don’t know why. I can literally do a gif search using any search term, and there will always be gifs featuring him in the results. My yesterday wasn’t bad. How was Thursday? What did you do? ** _Black_Acrylic, Thanks, Ben. Yeah, the artist studios minis were a nice surprise. ** Steevee, Hi. Well, I would check to see how much your script resembles ‘The Newsroom’. Resemblances can often very personalized brain phantoms. I have not heard the new Run the Jewels album. Is it good? ** Misanthrope, Me too, about little-iced things. There weren’t Star Wars toys when I was a kid, obviously, but I did like these toys called Matchbox Cars, tiny cars that came in tiny matchbox-like boxes. Uh, I think I can say with utter sincerity that I have never had a thought about that is remotely horrible. I wish celebrities would stop dying mostly because I don’t think I can take another tidal wave of one-size-fits-all grief flooding through Facebook. ** Right. I realized the other day that I have very strangely never done a full post about the very brilliant and daring French actress/filmmaker Delphine Seyrig, so I did one. I hope you will luxuriate therein. See you tomorrow.


  1. My last poem and post for the year:

    Was nice to find abit of refuge aswell as a place to share some stuff and let off some steam/ inspiration.
    Happy New year Denniscooperblog.
    – Ferdinand

  2. Amazed that Delphine Seyrig was only 58 when she died.
    Her brother Francs composed the score for “Last Year at Marienbad”
    She was very much a “late in life lesbian” working almost exclusively with Ulrike Ottinger in her last films such as “”The Picture of Dorian Gray in the Yellow Press” with Verushka.

    Glad you included “Son nom du Venise dans Calcutta Desert” which is the soundtrack of India Song placed on a new image track of the set of that film without any actors visible. Duras always privileged sound over image.

  3. Delphine Seyrig was our neighbor in Topanga Canyon sometime in the early 1970s. My father wasn’t impressed that much with famous people, but was very happy to have Delphine as a neighbor.

  4. Well, as my friend described it, there was never an episode of THE NEWSROOM which began with a monologue from a news anchor who had just gotten fired. However, every episode begins with a monologue from the protagonist, a news anchor played by Jeff Daniels. It’s probably nothing to worry about.

    My new computer arrives tomorrow!

    The Run the Jewels album is brilliantly produced (by El-P) and the two rappers have a great back-and-forth chemistry. The combination of Black Lives Matter rhetoric and gangsta boasting is a bit jarring, though, while this is nothing new from them.

  5. Hi Dennis: oh, another great day here! I admire her performance & persona. Quite recently watched criterion’s Muriel. Really loved her there too. Didn’t know she was a filmmaker also! And, lesbian!

    My day’s been already pleasant & quite productive. I guess it’s so thanks to your well wish and coffee magick. And, a barista played Frank Ocean Blonde while I was sitting at cafe this morning — it was kind of cool. (My neighborhood isn’t hip at all though much gentrified & expensive. But, most parts of of New York are like that now. Strange.) … Hope you had a great one yesterday! I’m taking a break from your blog like toward the later next week for final projects and recuperation. But, I do hope you are feeling okay and hopefully better if you can.

  6. Dennis, heh, well, there are some musical genres I don’t really care all that much for: country & western, r&b, most jazz, and so on… though obviously there are exceptions to the rule. Actually, recently I’ve been working on various top ten lists and I assembled my 30 favorite bands/recording artists, in 3 tiers:

    1-10: (in no order)
    Siouxsie & the Banshees, Nine Inch Nails, Current 93, Throbbing Gristle, Whitehouse, Coil, Madonna, Lady Gaga, Suzanne Vega, Joy Division

    11-20: (in no order)
    Dead Can Dance, Depeche Mode, Manic Street Preachers, Nico, Velvet Underground, Bauhaus, Talking Heads, Sonic Youth, Pink Floyd, Consumer Electronics

    21-30: (in no order)
    Cut Hands, Genesis, Ministry, ELP, Skinny Puppy, Sting/The Police, The Residents, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, David Bowie, Keane

    honorable mentions: Swans, Suicide, Switchblade Symphony, Fad Gadget, Big Black, Fleetwood Mac, etc.

  7. Hi!

    God, yes, I can imagine a reading! I don’t think I’d understand a word, haha, but I’d surely go merely out of curiosity! My ultimate favorite books from him are also the older ones but I quite like his more recent works, too. I really liked Skagboys so maybe if you’d like to read something newer from him, it’s worth a shot.
    I’m really sorry about your brother. I have a grandmother who’s kind of ‘poisonous’.
    This sounds very promising! Did you find anyone particularly interesting among the possible actors?
    Yes, yes, that’s him. I know, right? I found the whole show like that: no matter what I was looking for, I constantly ran into gifs with him and in the end I decided to look what the hype was all about. The show itself isn’t the best I’ve ever seen but I like Tate’s character.
    I mostly spent my day reading and writing, so just the usual, I guess. I’m not complaining, though, I like my days like this.
    How was yours?

  8. I sent the script to my editor at RogerEbert.com. He writes a lot on TV, and I’m sure he can tell me if I unconsciously plagiarized THE NEWSROOM.

    Here’s my review of Ken Loach’s I, DANIEL BLAKE:

  9. Hey Dennis,

    The manifesto thing was on my other computer and I didn’t back it up, so it’s lost forever I guess, but I was just considering the endless absurd possibilities of macrophilia and linking it to spatiality in art. Oh yes please, let’s have a zoomy Macrophilia Day!

    A strange coincidence btw, is that one story submitted to the zine is about a puppy in a hotel room, but this time it’s neither Fred nor fiction… Speaking of the zine, I’ve finished the tribute piece and will email it to you tonight or tomorrow.

    Do you know when in february you’d be most free to hang out? We’re thinking thursday > monday or something like that and I’d love to book it soon. I can’t wait to see you and stroll around in Paris again.

    “Godfather” kind of gives me the ughs, but I don’t know if there’s another name for it. Do you?

    Have a great day!


  10. A friend of mine loved Daughters of Darkness and I was able to recommend her a world of sleazy 70s Euro horror as a consequence. So she and I are grateful to Ms Seyrig for that. I also really need to see that SCUM Manifesto adaptation, woah.

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