Synopsis
An aging photographer's obsession with an early form of photography draws his assistant and daughter into a work of mystery.
2016 ‘Le Secret de la chambre noire’ Directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa
An aging photographer's obsession with an early form of photography draws his assistant and daughter into a work of mystery.
Film-in-Evolution Balthazar Productions Frakas Productions Bitters End ARTE France Cinéma Proximus VAP WOWOW
La femme de la plaque argentique, Dagereotaipu no onna, The Woman in the Silver Plate, 底片上的女人, 攝拍勾魂, Daguerreotype, 暗房秘密, 摄拍勾魂, Дагеротип, O Segredo da Câmera Escura, Das Geheimnis der dunklen Kammer, 은판 위의 여인, 顯影的女人, დაგეროტიპი
When Rivette explored the intersect between reality and dream, he sacrificed a visual integrity: 'reality' and 'the dream' had opposed aesthetics, rather than one unified aesthetic: the film. I am, of course, talking about Duelle, a film I (quite controversially) strongly dislike. It makes sense then, that when Kurosawa is fascinated in the intersect between reality and dream (rather than reality and its image), he shifts from Japanese to French production - yes, this film is almost exclusively riding on the coattails of what Rivette did historically. It's also better. A quick glance at the Letterboxd reviews for this (including heaps of horror fans I have very akin opinions to) suggest that this is a perceived-lesser Kiyoshi film. Well, this…
the photograph was often compared to the mummification of humans as the next most literally accurate capsule of life itself, distilling time to capture a singular moment in it; fittingly, the stillness that a perfect daguerreotype demands brings to mind the fundamental aspects of the form that justify those comparisons. terrified of their impending demise – or, more specifically, that of their loved ones – artists often use their work to channel that fear and leave an imprint of their fondest memories of whoever they may be honoring. that desperate, manual permanence and desire for immortality often compromises one’s relationships with the loved ones themselves; to put one through constant, silent discomfort is largely counterproductive, but once the art is…
Kurosawa goes to France for an ambitious attempt to transpose notions of 19th century romantic horror to contemporary setting. The actual dark chamber is ingenuous set up and Kurosawa’s staging has his usual intelligence, but the film drags and his lack of feeling for French language shows up in a lot of out of control acting (Gourmet and Rahim are both pretty bad). As the movie progresses and Rahim character gets lost between some mediocre real state intrigue and a severe case of ghost-laced l’amour fou the film just collapses until a pat predictable ending that fails to land with intent power. A misfire (almost certain his worst mature film), if one with some intriguing moments).
There is this lack of emotion throughout the film. Despite this being what the characters are supposedly going for, I can't help but feel that something was missing when regarding the attachment characters have for one another. Tahar Ramin really deserves an impressive role, but this was not it.
Still fucking weird, per usual for Kurosawa. This Kurosawa film may contain the largest number of irritants per square millimeter, but I've no doubt the vagaries of the filmmaker's formalism and his strange conception of human behavior will alleviate its aggravating effect once you give yourself over to the fact each precise yet "loosey-goosey" shot contains ideas far denser and more deliberate than even Kurosawa himself seems to be able to coalesce. This film may have too much on its mind, as Kurosawa seems to have whole-heartedly imbibed Rebecca Solnit (namely her book River of Shadows) and French cinema mystérieuse to bounce off every single thought in the film, but then feels the need to throw in The Innocents and,…
Alguns momentos de encenação magníficos, controle do tempo e do espaço de cena primorosos. Infelizmente, não são tantos momentos assim, o filme tem um certo problema com os dois protagonistas masculinos, em especial o Tahar Rahim na segunda parte, após a queda na escadaria. Não acho que o Kiyoshi tenha conseguido equilibrar os dois registros do personagem, pré e pós trauma. É interessante observar a presença dos conceitos orientais sobre fantasmas sendo imposto a cultura ocidental. O olhar atento aos detalhes de cena compensam os momentos de dramaturgia truncada. Colocado ao lado de Creepy, formam uma dupla curiosa de filmes que certamente não figuram entre os melhores do cineasta, mas há algo ali retém e reafirma o seu nome entre os grandes cineastas em atividade, uma concepção de jogo de cena puro, a altura de Hitchcock.
The conspicuous absence of Huppert, Binoche and Swinton alone makes it clear that Kurosawa's foreign language debut will not follow the formula of globalized arthouse brand enhancement. Indeed, DAGUERROTYPE is fully committed to being French to the core, a film populated with people called Jean, Marie and Stephane, inspired by European gothic fiction and thoroughly obsessed with the fabrics and architecture, also the dampness and rot, of old Europe.
In the end, Europe is just a realm of the imaginary, though, or maybe better one among its many possible embodiments. Nothing here is lived in, the few attempts to depict Jean's daily life of economic despair outside of his growing obsession with the world of ghosts (like the scene in…
deeply sad; kiyoshi going for less creepiness than ever and relying almost purely on the disappointments that cause our anxieties. a movie about letting go of people when they're gone for whatever reason, but also one about how cycles of abuse can continue. there's also like 3 hours worth of plot here but it pads things out reasonably and never feels rushed, even with its sort of fairy tale elements to it.
i have no idea why this is seen as among his worst; Pulse is obviously a gigantic masterpiece but a lot of his other stuff has seemed a bit overrated to me. this one though is where it's at.
crazy that he really made a "the car crash wasn't your fault" meme into a movie
All Different Things. There are bits of the previous Kiyoshi Kurosawa mythos in this French piece thrown here, but it could feel all too direct; familiar for some and a tiny bit more oblique (in feeling) than it usually is, making the core of this easy to divide and disconnect most viewers, though the beloved formal control will still be appreciated by many. Supernatural in drama (mostly). The post-rock atmosphere is now more akin to sad whispering springs. Pass the blue dress walking by. When the life is too cruel to live in, the Daguerrotype one will remain, or false.
partly due to kurosawa’s inexperience with french, the dramaturgy suffers a lot - the characters are practically non entities, everybody seem like undeveloped spectrums (working well with marie, not being so successful with the rest of the cast). individual moments are mesmerizing, as one would expect, but these inspired scenes simply don’t coalesce together as an unity, remaining very disconnected, thus the narrative never actually lands, and the mediocre plot doesn’t really help (conceptually this being way less sophisticated than his recent metaphysical ventures).