Regie:
Leos CaraxDrehbuch:
Leos CaraxBesetzung:
Denis Lavant, Edith Scob, Kylie Minogue, Eva Mendes, Michel Piccoli, Jean-François Balmer, Annabelle Dexter-Jones, Elise Lhomeau, Leos Carax (mehr)Inhalte(1)
Vom Sonnenaufgang bis tief in die Nacht: einige Stunden im Leben von Monsieur Oscar, einer schattenhafte Existenz, die von einem Leben ins nächste schweift. Mal ist er ein Industriekapitän, mal ein Killer, ein Bettler, ein Monster oder ein treusorgender Familienvater.... Monsieur Oscar scheint Rollen zu spielen, taucht in jeden Part komplett ein – aber wo befinden sich die Kameras? Er ist alleine, nur Céline begleitet ihn, die große Blonde hinter dem Steuer der riesigen Stretchlimousine, die ihn durch Paris und in die Vororte kutschiert. Wie einen Profikiller, der von Auftrag zu Auftrag eilt. In der Vollendung einer schönen Geste, des Antriebs einer Aktion, der Frauen und Phantome seines Lebens. Aber wo ist sein Zuhause, seine Familie, kann er sich erholen? (Arsenal Filmverleih)
(mehr)Kritiken (7)
Ich mag keine kurzen, nichts erklärenden Rezensionen auf FilmBooster, wie z. B. "Pseudointellektuelle Scheiße“. Aber über diesen seltsamen Film kann man nichts anderes schreiben. In den letzten X Jahren gab es keinen anderen Film, zu dem diese Beschreibung so gut passen würde. Jemand, der die Kamera halten kann und Farben mag, schrieb und drehte etwas, was bestimmt niemand anderes schreiben und aufnehmen wird. Ist das nicht ein bisschen zu wenig? Einen Stern gebe ich nur wegen den Szenen mit Eva Mendes, die aus irgendeinem Grund interessant waren. Vielleicht lag es an Eva…
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Alle, die diesen Film "pseudo-intellektuell" bezeichnen, sollte der animalische Lavant nicht nur die Finger, sondern noch wichtigere Körperteile abbeißen. Absolute cinephile Extase, ein wunderbar nostalgischer, schizophrener sowie unter Energiedruck stehender Akt, bei dem jeder Versuch einer "intellektuellen und rationalen" Interpretation den Dampf unter dem Kessel wegnehmen. Sicherlich bedient sich Carax unzähliger Verweise (auf die französische Kinematografie sowie insbesondere auf seine eigenen Filme), jedoch Holy Motors benötigen nicht kein vollständiges Verständnis, um reibungslos zu funktionieren - im Gegenteil. Es ist ein wunderbar animalisches, subversives, erfrischendes sowie physisches Spektakel und ein Film, der sich von den meisten heutigen und zugleich konventionellen Titeln unterscheidet. Eine Darbietung des magischen Lebens in einer immer leerer anmutenden Zeit. Meines Erachtens ein Film mit einem großen F. Wer das nicht versteht soll sich doch gleich zum Friedhof begeben, oder ...
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“Weird … so weird.” The main prerequisite for understanding Holy Motors is to have a love for moving pictures and a willingness to let yourself be surprised and astonished. Carax’s film about films (and motion as such), actors (who can never completely abandon a role) and viewers (who, in the digital age with ubiquitous cameras, are also actors) begins when the still image was first set in motion (Étienne-Jules Marey). Subsequently, it offers a cross-section of film history and genres in an anti-narrative series of episodes linked together by Mr. Oscar (Carax’s birth name is Alexandre Oscar Dupont) as the personification of that motion (there is definitely a good reason that he is played by one of today's most talented actors) and a medium conveying meanings (his transformations are transformations of cinema as such). Social drama, anarchistic comedy (did Lavant’s imp also remind you of Chaplin?), gangster flick, musical, melodrama... The focus of Carax’s films has always been more on other films than on reality. Here he elevated this approach to the main principle of the narrative, resulting in a film composed of situations known from other films and thus deconstructing the film’s narrative. Unlike many of his colleagues who write love letters to cinema, however, Carax refuses to be sentimental or to consider that films and viewers are no longer what they used to be. His journey into the depths of one night in Paris (guided by a lady bearing the name of the famous French novelist, Céline) is subversive, cheeky and malevolent, as everyone must realise during the penultimate scene depicting the return to the “family” (and to the evolutionary origins, not of film, but of man – one cannot exist without the other). Beauty and weirdness are represented here in equal measure. Carax does not lament the end of film, but rather thinks about its possible rebirth. He understands film as a collective dream (in one of the first shots, we see a hall full of sleeping viewers). As a love affair (when the lovers in one of the last episodes talk about the fact that they have 30 minutes left, that also happens to the same amount of time remaining until the end of Holy Motors). Like life (we are all the sum of the films that we have seen). Life through films. Where there are no films, only death remains. P.S.: Holy Motors is also valuable educational material. In the imp segment, it shows the only appropriate reaction to a person who enjoys using “air quotes”. 90%
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Annoying art film. The first quarter I would rate 40% for the experience, the second 30 %, the third 20%, and the fourth also 20%. The Ministry of Interior would make a big thing out of this, but… I like open texts, but this is just too much. As broken as a barn door. Meh.
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So was Monsieur Merde from Tokyo! was just Monsieur Oscar on vacation? What a disappointment. In any case, after seeing this, I can say just one thing: Kylie is tragic as an actress too. The rest is so weird and flamboyant that, despite everything, you should give it a chance even if you end up switching off in disgust after ten minutes. Even though there is a considerable chance that in this pastiche of incongruous segments you will find something to adore/detest; I found such elements here and proportionally they are represented exactly half-and-half.
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Holy Motors gave me an extremely unpleasant experience that I will not forget for a long time. For the first half hour, I was just brutally bored, and in the following minutes, I forgot about the boredom under the impression of a growing hatred that I began to feel toward this construction. Intellectual masturbation of the worst kind, which rightfully puts all those refined aesthetes into ecstasy, who are willing to search for the most hidden meanings, even where there are none at all. I'm not saying that this is Carax's case, and of course, I can imagine several explanations for this plaything. However, I could not in any way approach the director's game, and one thing I know for sure - I will definitely avoid his name in the future. Popcorn enthusiasts probably won't have a reason to waste time with Holy Motors - and rightfully so, as it has nothing to offer them - it might appeal to those who admire the work of Peter Greenaway. As for myself, I can say that since Greenaway's 8½ Women, I haven't given any film the rating of Boo! with such perverse joy as Holy Motors. You can either love or hate this film - nothing in between. Those who give it 3 stars are deceiving either themselves or others. I could praise the perfect camera, the performance of Denis Lavant, or the fashionable face of Eva Mendes, but I'd rather do it some other time and for another film. Overall impression: 0%.
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I'm not a complete fan of meta-movies, which apart from that have nothing different to offer. As appealing as I find the idea of an audience disappearing because people are increasingly inserting themselves into their own assigned roles, and the rigorous handling of formal procedures is respectable in places, unfortunately for half the running time I felt like I was in a knowledge contest where I kept being asked horrendously long questions that I knew the answers to from the beginning but still had to listen to the assignment to the end. I know how bloated that sounds, but Holy Motors deserves it because they're bloated just the same.
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