Chanced upon Gaspar Noé’s Love last night when I was searching for a film to watch over solitary dinner. Could say it’s a total departure from the last film of his that I’ve watched — and then not exactly so. Strobe lights again but with Wes Anderson-style framing, colors and captions.
Read somewhere that Noé had said how this everyday violence in sexual gratification-addiction is more pervasive and real than the type of violence he had portrayed in his other films. For the most part Love is sexually-explicit (visually arresting AF but thankfully not in 3D) with an attempt at a Before Sunrise-type discussion towards the end of the film about (what else but) love in every indie director’s favorite park in Paris — the parc des Buttes-Chaumont.
Think I also spied scenes shot in the cimetière du Père Lachaise and then maybe along a stretch below the elevated viaduct of métro line 2 in the 18th arrondissement on boulevard de la Chapelle just opposite the hôpital Lariboisière (looks too grimey to be line 6).
The dialogue in addition to Murphy’s whispery soliloquy which dominated the film could have been better and more polished. For those who find it charming, there’s lots of English spoken with a French accent (watch out for the bizarre bit with French cops dishing out relationship advice).
Total Sharpie convert, as of the past weekend.
Pretty pleased that we managed to sneak a visit to the headquarters of the French Communist Party right in our ‘hood during the recent journées européennes du patrimoine weekend after having walked past it countless times over the past three years. Designed by Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer, the building is such a sculptural futuristic beauty of a monument that it is still as relevant today — unlike the ideology it unfortunately stands for.
Espace Niemeyer – Siège du Parti Communiste Français
2, place du Colonel Fabien, 75019 Paris, France
The tracks were unfortunately under maintenance while we were there earlier this year. The mother bought some dried chilli padi and we wandered on the tracks for a bit before getting some much-needed respite from the sun. Thai iced tea it was, at the eerily-quiet railway station since no trains were running.