L'Amour Fou (translates literally to Crazy Love) probably is one of the most harrowing, unique, slightly (no, very much so) deranged, special and brilliantly shot in 16mm/35mm black and white relationship dramas of its or any era that has slivers of surrealism and dream-like beats but is largely drenched in a realistic approach to the cinematography and staging and that makes it all the more affecting.... And at the same time it is hard not to think this really could have been a 3 hour or even 3 1/2 hour or so film instead of 4 and a 1/2. To put it another way, sometimes when you're full from a meal and your friend keeps making you eat, you're going to barely be able to keep your belt from breaking off your body in a clump, if you take my meaning.
And I get it. I really, really do, please dont @ me; I comprehend that the length is a major part of the point, that we need to see the grind day by night by day how this relationship deteriorates so completely that when they somehow are happy again in the latter part it isnt any kind of healthy joy, on the contrary it is the kind of apocalyptic-level of being on Cloud Nine that feels like being on a drug (and the come-down will be that much more emotionally fraught).
Maybe there weren't the words for it at the time too, but the nature of the characters, who are mood swinging to the sky and crashing to the ground again, speaks to what one might describe as BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) or even like a chronicle of Bi-Polar disorder through and through and it's the fact that it's just... there and that honesty makes it compelling (one scene has Sebastien's assistant comment he should talk to someone; insert 'Men will direct agonizing Greek tragedy rather than go to Therapy' joke here).
So, Rivette puts the audience through the many productive and awkward and emotionally violent and turbulent and sorrowful and joyful days and nights where we gotta be with this couple and see the repitition and staging this play with these actors (some of who, I'm glad we are shown, are getting visibly tired and fed up with the moody director), and how that starts to send him into a downward spiral and so on. And there are stretches where this hits your heart and drops your jaw and when they tear apart that one wall it's darkly funny. But my goodness, this is so much cinema - and when I can point to specifics that could be cut (the sub plot with buying/not buying a dog), that's a problem.
Extra kudos has to go to the 2 lead actors, particularly Ogier (a Rivette regular and from Bunuel's Discreet Charm) who digs so deep into her pain to bring out what we see on the screen (or can pretend better than anyone from the 60s in France), who definitely were a main reason for keeping me in my seat until the ending.... even though the male lead Kalfon looks distractingly like a young Steve Martin to the point where I sometimes wondered if he would just go into a rendition of being a dentist and get over with. 8.5/10.
