2023-06-27 22:05:14
Depression
Article reserved for subscribers
With ferocious intelligence, filmmaker Marusya Syroechkovskaya paints the portrait of a dead friend, retracing not so much the episodes of his life in a Moscow suburb under a leaden screed as the impossibility of living.
By building a tomb for Kimi, Marusya Syroechkovskaya made a great film, one of the most beautiful and saddest possible. Tomb, not in the form of a stele, but in free form: a kaleidoscope playing with the light continuing to radiate from a life that has died out, in the light of its guarded images. It is from the first scene that we see the young filmmaker, born in 1989, going to the funeral, in 2016, of the one who had been, since adolescence, her lover, her husband, her ex, her friend. , ceremony of which we will see snippets at the end of the film: in the meantime, framed by this departure, the crossfire of their intertwined lives will have been evoked, resuscitated, recomposed with a mad intensity, as elegiac as direct, by the editing: musical force who finds the rhythm of life (rather than its meaning) to reproduce its beats and cries. “If there is an followinglife, then it’s digital, like that. Where you remain pixelated forever. Where every moment of our lives repeats itself over and over once more.” From the rushes of the eternal return, a dead archive, Marusya Syroechkovskaya has drawn the hyper-vivid (and ultra-grunge) melody of a body that has decided not to exist anymore.
It’s because How to Save a Dead Friend is a political film, not a melancholic one, regarding suicide, that of Kimi, that of Marusya (his temptation
1687906811
#Save #Dead #Friend #bleus #Russes #Libération