In the music of Arvo Pärt, the gaps, the silences, are just as important as the notes that are played, if not more. The same can be said for Gerry, and for the other two films in Gus van Sant's informal trilogy about (violent) death, Elephant and Last Days. This might be the emptiest of them all, but they have in common a total lack of motivation, structure, and above all meaning, defying viewers to make anything of the raw images.
As I watched this film, my mind often wandered, and I even went back one time, only to find that I had, in fact, seen and registered the shots that came before, just hadn't processed them. It might be the best way of seeing this film, and the two others: just letting the images stream through is, repressing our innate yearning to analyze and destroy.
7.17.2007
Gerry (continuing the 'going crazy in the desert' theme)
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Your desert movie reviews are cool. I just saw The English Patient for the first time (I read the book years ago but the film, curiously, makes more sense). OK, yeah, I'm shallow, I adore Ralph Fiennes. And now I have to see Othello because your review made it sound fantastically cool. Do you know any good film versions of King Lear?
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