The Intruder (L'Intrus), a film directed by French director Clair Denis, is the liberation of film. It follows its own spirit across time, space, and character. There may be a plot, but what I understood of that I picked up from the description on the Netflix DVD sleeve. Honestly, it's probably better to know nothing about the film before watching it, because then the viewer can set aside any and all expectations. The film demands that the viewer think, but also taunts the fact that he or she will not gain full understanding.
The human heart is the film's enigma. Every image questions its role, its nature, and its form. The heart is the intruder, that of the viewer and that of Louis. Louis' character is played by Michel Subor with the peace and mystery required by such a character. Honestly, anyone could've played Louis' character, if he or she possessed a wandering, willing, and comfortable heart. Yet Subor is the one featured here; he becomes the film, his identity is inseparable from it. Many of the film's images lingering in my mind revolve around his expressions, vocal but mainly physical.
The Intruder is poetic in its ability to capture the stillness and fullness of movement, but more fluid than any literature in the shape it refuses to take. "Surrealistic" has been a term used in describing this film, but perhaps "quasirealistic" is a more adequate term. Nothing in the film exists outside of the possibilities of reality; the simple omnipresent score confirms that by imagining in music the connection between heartbeat and dim light.
Watch the trailer a few times if you're attracted to visual imagery; see the film to see the consequences of the combination of verse and a grasping for freedom.
The human heart is the film's enigma. Every image questions its role, its nature, and its form. The heart is the intruder, that of the viewer and that of Louis. Louis' character is played by Michel Subor with the peace and mystery required by such a character. Honestly, anyone could've played Louis' character, if he or she possessed a wandering, willing, and comfortable heart. Yet Subor is the one featured here; he becomes the film, his identity is inseparable from it. Many of the film's images lingering in my mind revolve around his expressions, vocal but mainly physical.
The Intruder is poetic in its ability to capture the stillness and fullness of movement, but more fluid than any literature in the shape it refuses to take. "Surrealistic" has been a term used in describing this film, but perhaps "quasirealistic" is a more adequate term. Nothing in the film exists outside of the possibilities of reality; the simple omnipresent score confirms that by imagining in music the connection between heartbeat and dim light.
Watch the trailer a few times if you're attracted to visual imagery; see the film to see the consequences of the combination of verse and a grasping for freedom.