#themroc

[cinema-look]

2023.20 : Themroc

J'ai évalué Themroc (1973), de Claude Faraldo 7/10

Film sans dialogue autre que des grognements, des cris ou des onomatopées. Film symbolique interdit initialement au moins de 18 ans, il est encré dans son époque post-mai 68. Proche du film "l'An 01", il a une mise en scène très cartoonesque, ce qui le rapproche aussi de la BD et de l'époque Hara-Kiri. Léger par sa forme, pas de prise de tête, mais profond par son message contestataire. Contre les normes sociales, contre la propriété, pour la libération sexuelle, c'est un appel a la révolte, qui se propage à travers le personnage principal joué par Michel Piccoli. Il y'a aussi un super casting, Miou-Miou, Deware, Coluche etc...

C'est un appel à devenir sauvage dans ce monde oppressif, mais avec les défauts que cela engendre : les femmes deviennent aussi des morceaux de chair, la force viril du personnage incarne une figure héroïque indépassable.

Des murs qui se brisent, la destruction du mobilier, des flics qui volent, qui se font rôtir puis manger, des décors de ruine, des ouvriers qui se tapent dessus pour un travail aliénant et absurde.

[unitedspaceflag]

#rainerwernerfassbinder #klauslemke #herbertachternbusch #andreitarkovsky #mirandajuly #miriamcahn #marlenedumas #gabriellekbrown #agnesmartin #senganengudi #davidhammons #themroc #permanentvacation #erasorhead #nftart #nft #randomircosmotisch #sketchbookdrawing #sketchbook #skizzenbuch https://www.instagram.com/p/CpsyezgIa1i/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[el-dze]

Kosmos Mail from Karsten.Haecker

… mehr Tage als Essen übrig. Jetzt wird gespart. Oder ich brat mir ‘n Hiker (Themroc-mäßig). 😋 Haltet durch ihr da draußen. 😎

[folkhorrorrevival]

A Taste of Urban Wyrd Cinema

A Taste of Urban Wyrd Cinema

Urban Wyrd: A mode not a genre. A sense of otherness within the narrative, experience, image or feeling concerning a densely human-constructed area or the in-between spaces and edge-lands bordering the bucolic and the built -up: Or surrounding modern technology with regard to another energy at play or in control: be it supernatural, spiritual, historical, nostalgic or psychological. Possibly…

[dare-g]

Themroc (1973)

[peter-ash]

[luvetlux]

Themroc - 1973 (Trailer)

[boireuncoup]

[midmarauder]

[krautjunker]

Penne Arrabbiata - Eine kleine Mafia Geschichte

Penne Arrabbiata – Eine kleine Mafia Geschichte

von Holger Obenaus Die 80iger und frühen 90iger waren von drei Dingen geprägt. Schnelle Autos, gute Schüsse (wie man in Köln sagte) und Mafia-Filme. Die Kreise, in denen ich mich zu dieser Zeit rumtrieb, durchlebten Schneestürme im Hochsommer und Cold Turkey im Winter. Die besten Filmzitate passten auf jede Lebenslage und Joe Pesci war mein persönlicher Held! Unser Leben war am Limit, der…

[nanneman]

A 2015 film.factory essay of mine has appeared online. I put it there. It is about how the marvellous films Playtime and Themroc reflect ideas about urbanism, modernity, and revolution through their sound design. Fascinating!

[officialtokyosan]

damn i gotta thank whoever picked out the songs in wipeout pure they still fuck immensely after 16 years

[notsoterriblymisanthropic]

"It would be a simple gesture, and a facile one, to reify categories of Film-as-Commerce - Marvel, the latest Star Wars remake, and so on - and Pure Art, whether we consider this to be exemplified by Themroc, Salo or Goncharov. Instead, it is the role of a properly dialectical perspective to understand these systems as a dynamic relationship, to understand how the compromises and limitations of an artist like Matteo JWHJ0715 allowed for the later recuperation and incorporation of his themes into the Hollywood system; and equally, to allow for an approach, following Walter Benjamin, of reading film "against the grain" which can reveal the Goncharovian moments in the Bee Movie." - Mark Fisher, Acid Communism (Unfinished Introduction)

[justforbooks]

Michel Piccoli obituary

Stalwart of French cinema whose prolific career included films with Luis Buñuel, Jean-Luc Godard and Claude Chabrol

By Ronald Bergan

For more than half a century, there seemed to be one constant in French cinema – the actor Michel Piccoli. With his death at the age of 94 something vital has disappeared from the screen.

Never young looking – he was prematurely bald – Piccoli grew in maturity and power over the years, with directors such as Luis Buñuel, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Marco Ferreri and Claude Sautet seeking his services more than once. He also worked for directors of the stature of Alfred Hitchcock, Henri-Georges Clouzot, Jacques Rivette, Costa-Gavras and Louis Malle.

Even when he was a big name, Piccoli was never too proud to play small supporting roles or even bit parts if he liked the screenplay. But whatever the size of the role, whether playing a goody or a baddie, Piccoli would bring to the character a gravitas (with a tinge of humour) and an ironic detachment, simultaneously revealing a real, recognisable human being beneath the surface.

Piccoli was born in Paris to a French mother and an Italian father, both of them musicians – his mother was a pianist; his father a violinist. At 19, he made his screen debut in a walk-on part in Sortilèges (1945), directed by Christian-Jaque.

After several roles in the cinema and theatre, he met Buñuel. “I wrote to this famous director asking him to come and see me in a play. Me, an obscure actor! It was the cheek of a young man. He came and we became friends.” Piccoli appeared in six of Buñuel’s films, usually cast as a silky, authoritarian figure.

His first performance for Buñuel was as a weak, compromised priest trekking through the Brazilian jungle in La Mort en Ce Jardin (Death in the Garden/Evil Eden, 1956). In Diary of a Chambermaid (1964), he was the idle and lecherous Monsieur Monteil, sexually obsessed with Jeanne Moreau as the maid Célestine.

Just as louche was his smooth bourgeois gentleman who persuades a respectable doctor’s wife (Catherine Deneuve) to spend her afternoons working in a high-class brothel with kinky clients in Belle de Jour (1967). Piccoli reprised the role charmingly almost 40 years later in Manoel de Oliveira’s Belle Toujours (2006).

He was discreetly charming as the Marquis de Sade in Buñuel’s La Voie Lactée (The Milky Way, 1969), subtly overbearing as the home secretary in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) and sinister as a prefect of police in Buñuel’s penultimate film, Le Fantôme de la Liberté (The Phantom of Liberty, 1974).

In the 1950s, apart from his one film with Buñuel and his appearance as María Félix’s jealous lover in Jean Renoir’s French Cancan, Piccoli was cast mainly in run-of-the mill “policiers”. During this period, Piccoli was part of the Saint-Germain-des-Prés set in Paris, which included the writers Boris Vian, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, and the café singer Juliette Gréco, to whom he was married from 1966 to 1977. He was also an active member of the French Communist party.

The 60s was his most creatively exciting and varied decade. His first leading role (with Serge Reggiani and Jean-Paul Belmondo) was as an unscrupulous gangster in Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Doulos (The Finger Man, 1962).

This led to one of his best remembered parts, as Brigitte Bardot’s husband in Godard’s Le Mépris (Contempt, 1963), in which he plays a screenwriter, willing to sell his wife to a producer (Jack Palance) in order to get his script filmed by Fritz Lang. In a homage to Dean Martin’s character in Vincente Minnelli’s Some Came Running, Piccoli wears a cowboy hat in the bath.

As memorable as this image was the name of the character he played in Jacques Demy’s Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (The Young Girls of Rochefort, 1967). As Simon Dame, he is continually being greeted as Monsieur Dame (a joke that works only in French), and is rebuffed by Danielle Darrieux, who cannot bear the thought of being called Madame Dame.

It was in 1968 that Piccoli met Ferreri, who starred him in Dillinger È Morto (Dillinger Is Dead), a bleak study of alienation, in which a man’s life is laid bare. Piccoli is brilliant as an industrial designer who, while spending an evening at home, making himself a meal, watching TV and seducing the maid, decides to kill his wife and go to Tahiti.

It was the first of seven films the actor made for the Italian-born director, the most infamous being La Grande Bouffe (Blow Out, 1973), an excessive film about excess, where Piccoli as a TV personality, along with a pilot, a judge and a chef, all bored with life, literally eat themselves to death.

Piccoli’s few roles in English language films were less than challenging: they included his secret agent in Hitchcock’s Topaz (1969) and the suave card dealer in Malle’s Atlantic City (1981).

He was much happier in France, where his talents were not only respected but revered. His several films for Sautet showed him as a complex and flawed hero, starting with Les Choses de la Vie (The Things of Life, 1970), in which he played a man who, although having an affair, finds himself still attached to his estranged wife, his son and friends, and consequently unable to make the absolute commitment his lover requires.

In 1973, Piccoli formed a production company which kicked off with that year’s Themroc, directed by Claude Faraldo, in which he played a factory worker, living in a squalid flat with his mother and sister, pursuing an existence of repetitive routine and urban grind, before he rebels. What made this biting social satire particularly unusual was that language was abandoned completely, with the characters having to communicate in a series of formless noises, something Piccoli does particularly effectively.

Piccoli then returned to his speciality – the urbane bourgeois – in Chabrol’s blackly comic Les Noces Rouges (Blood Wedding, 1973), where he played a mayor’s deputy having an affair with his boss’s wife. In Godard’s Passion (1982), he was a factory owner whose wife is having an affair with a film director.

He gave three of his largest and most impressive performances in his late 60s and 70s. In Malle’s Milou en Mai (Milou in May, 1990), he is the ideal repository of all the director’s sympathies, the upholder of the best of traditional country values, unambitious, unacquisitive and a lover of nature, in contrast to his greedy middle-class family gathered for a funeral.

Rivette’s La Belle Noiseuse (1991) cast him magisterially as a famous artist trying to capture a new nude young model on canvas. In Oliveira’s Je Rentre à la Maison (I’m Going Home, 2001), Piccoli struck a personal and poignant note as an actor trying to deal with old age, and refusing to compromise his principles.

He shone in what amounted to almost a cameo as the courtly but bumbling elderly relative of the Duchess of Langeais (Jeanne Balibar) in Rivette’s Ne Touchez Pas la Hache (Don’t Touch the Axe, 2007), a version of Balzac’s novel on erotic obsession.

For the English language The Dust of Time (2008), Theo Angelopoulos’s last film, Piccoli joined such stalwarts of European art cinema as Bruno Ganz and Irène Jacob in a love triangle that covers the latter part of the 20th century. Despite some of the stilted dialogue, Piccoli bares the soul of a character whose sufferings include his internment and escape from a gulag.

He dominated every moment as a reserved and modest cardinal who panics when elected pontiff in Nanni Moretti’s semi-satire Habemus Papam (We Have a Pope, 2011). The first close-ups of him, when he realises he has been appointed the new pope, suggest, with subtle expressions, emotions ranging from surprise, humility, ambivalence, excitement and then horror.

In Vous N’avez Encore Rien Vu (You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet, 2012), Alain Resnais’ intriguing, self-reflective examination of actors and acting, film and theatre, Piccoli, playing himself, is the doyen in a cast of leading French actors of the day.

He directed the features Alors Voilà (1997) and La Plage Noire (The Black Beach, 2001), the former winning the Critics’ prize at Venice, to add to the many prizes he had won as an actor. It was appropriate that when Agnès Varda filmed One Hundred and One Nights for the centenary of the cinema in 1995, she cast Piccoli as Monsieur Cinema.

He was married three times. His first two marriages, to Eléonore Hirt and to Gréco, ended in divorce. He is survived by his third wife, the screenwriter Ludivine Clerc, whom he married in 1978, and by his daughter, Anne-Cordélia, from his first marriage.

• Michel Piccoli, actor, born 27 December 1925; died 12 May 2020

© 2020 Guardian News

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[warmheartworm]

1972 french movie Themroc must’ve made a big impression on my dad cus he’s mentioned it like twice a year every year since i was old enough that it was appropriate subject matter despite him not really being a cinema or art guy