The Bastard 1983
The erratic life of Patrice who, after having murdered the pimp of his mother to avenge the death of her, goes from town to town.
The erratic life of Patrice who, after having murdered the pimp of his mother to avenge the death of her, goes from town to town.
A bunch of broke guys rob a rich con artist who has embezzled money from a charity.
They are in their thirties. They have now children, an appartment, a work, cars... and still have loves, dreams and passions. They will meet each other, leave each other, under the eye of their kids.
In a routine look at what it means to finally leave adolescence behind — even in one’s mature years — this series of mood swings and sequences focuses on two grown men. Francois (Jean Francois Stevenin, the director) and Leo (Yves Alonso) are old friends, and at one point they decide to go out and search for one of their childhood buddies, the brunt of several of their practical jokes. In true form, the men opt for playing yet another practical joke on their friend, but their plans backfire when his wife Helene (Carole Bouquet) comes into the picture instead. Her presence forces them to reconsider their shenanigans in a new light.
A Mediterranean scrubland. The relentless noise of crickets. In the distance a highway and the procession of lorries travelling through the countryside at top speed. Among the green oaks and thorn bushes the construction of a leisure Centre is nearing completion. On the other side, from the building workers' prefabs can be heard the happy chaos of children shouting, families getting together and Ramadan celebrations. Moving incessantly between the two, are Fabienne, daughter of the manageress of the Centre, and Latifa, daughter of one of the workers. Fabienne and Latifa are friends, they tell each other everything, or almost... When you are 16 there are secrets that you don't share, even with your best friend. Then, there are questions which one would love to be able to answer and mysteries one would love to understand... The Centre's opening day approaches. It is the day of Fabienne's 16th birthday. But why do her mother Anne and her uncle Tom seem to be so fearful of that day?
Belgian director Chantal Akerman avoids her usual "real time" technique in Histoires d'Amérique. The anecdotal nature of the subject matter compels Akerman to fragment her narrative, rather than offer it in one, uninterrupted continuum. Still, another Akerman trademark -- permitting the "drama" to emanate from the actors rather than the situations -- is very much in evidence. This informal history of Jewish life over the past 100 years is related in a series of eyewitness accounts, re-created by a group of largely unknown actors. Also known as American Stories, the Belgian/French Histoires d'Amérique began building an audience when it was shown at the Berlin Film Festival.
Biquefarre is a small farm in Aveyron. The changing economics of farming lead Raoul, in late middle age, to decide to sell and move to Toulouse. At least two neighboring farmers want to buy Biquefarre: Lucien and the young Marcel. Behind the scenes, Henri, whose brother is Marcel's father and who is also Lucien's brother-in-law, negotiates with Raoul so that Marcel's father can secretly sweeten Marcel's offer. Will dad and uncle succeed? In the background is the hard daily work of farming: milking cows, harvesting at night, and finding help when a farmer falls ill. Progress brings challenges: polluted water, factory farms, and skyrocketing land prices.
Alfred Brendel, one of the greatest of all pianists, plays and reflects on Franz Schubert’s last three piano sonatas. As he points out, Schubert can’t have known that he was soon to die, so they probably do not embody the air of resignation and finality future generations have sentimentally insisted they bear. They were however long neglected, all but forgotten, and only in more recent times have they come to be treasured and performed. The repose and wisdom of the maestro, together with the patient observation of one who is no stranger to the idea of the irrevocably lost, of the erasures of history, and of the value of fragile objects passed carefully from generation to generation, is a joy.