Is it fair to compare Whit Stillman with Rohmer? Is it even justified just because they both like to have their characters talk a lot? If so, to the disavantage of Rohmer, for Stillman is by far the wittier of the two. Anyway, Stillman was always on the Jane Austen side of things.
One thing that keeps cropping up is ’ Plays, novels, songs, all have a subtext… …which I take to mean a hidden message or import of some kind. Subtext, we know. But what do you call the message or meaning……that’s on the surface, open and obvious? They never talk about that. What do you call what’s above the subtext?
That’s right, but they never talk about that.
(Barcelona, Whit Stillman, 1994)
Pay attention, critics of all kind, hermeneutics buffs.
Exaggeration should be used as a tool for analysis, fine fellow practitioners of analysis AND meaning.
Was Rohmer always a filmmaker of the basest sort? He is no De Palma, but the question is still worth asking, though.
like this one: Are there only hacks who write on Pitchfork?
one instance, this review of the hilarious stand-up comedy album by David Cross (really, that guy is brilliant), Shup You Fucking Baby. Utter rubbish. Sentences such as “I’d assume most of us spend a good part of our dayjob hours spotting similarly maddening minutiae, as a salve against the ways it overwhelms us.” are irrelevant.
Good for YOU, though.
Another instance is this interview with Johnny Jewel, the guy behind the Chromatics and Desire (which I rather like, in spite of their obvious, almost consubtantial flaws), in which the interviewers asks the following question:
People often talk about your music in terms of Italo disco and Moroder and Goblin and John Carpenter. But especially on this album, you can hear the influence of experimental composers like Karlheinz Stockhausen and Luigi Nono. Do you think that influence gets overlooked?
No need to comment on that one. Philistines! I’m tired now, THANK YOU. I’ll dispense with the fact of coming up with another obscure, unsung album.
My God, are people pretentious! Perhaps I should leave it at that and shut the fuck up, at least, in the open, defenseless. I know, it doesn’t make much sense. Fatigue.
This Heat - Deceit (1981- that was ranked by Pitchfork Media as the 20th greatest album of the 1980s - thanks to them)