A dull monotonous Andean-like melody (or sort of) almost ruins this un-emotional account of the dramatic evolution of a couple. As an annoying never-ending loop the melody keeps on going for almost 85 minutes or so of projection, without any reason. It is supposedly the music partygoers are playing or listening to, and it can be heard from the beach to the forest in Thionville... I have nothing against Marguerite Duras' oblique way to tell stories (I love "Hiroshima, mon amour" and "Moderato cantabile", finely and respectively cinematized by Alain Resnais and Peter Brook), but as a filmmaker herself she could have spare us of this silly "score" and leave us with her fascinating world of words.
Review of Baxter, Vera Baxter
