Seems I'm in the minority here but I'll take it on the chin and won't open a vein just yet. Carax clearly has his admirers and we can only guess at the reasons. Mabe youthful rebellion against a mainstream way of telling a story; maybe disciples of the 'new'different-is- automatically-BETTER school. Who knows. I guess it's fair to say that I Endured this movie rather than Enjoyed it. Depending on your point of view Carax has an endearing and/or irritating habit of fading in the middle of a scene and then coming back to the same point. Why? You tell me. In its favor it does feature two of the now loveliest (in 1986 they were merely pretty) French actresses in Julie Delpy and Juliette Binoche plus two all-time great actors in Michel Piccoli and Serge Reggiani (albeit only a cameo for the latter) but against this it throws in one of those leading men who seem to get cast inexplicably given they lack virtually every criteria for leading men, I'm thinking of the two Vincents, Cassell and Gallo, Benoit Magimal et al. In this case it's Denis Lavant (a favorite of Carax) who resembles nothing so much as a sullen Russ Tamblyn and is one anchovy short of a pizza given that he starts out by dumping Julie Delpy, who is herself one egg short of an omelette by being head-over-heels in love with this yob in the first place. Plot? You don't want to know, believe me.
Review of Bad Blood
