"I took it and put it in the gray weather, near the sea, I lost it, I left it in the stretch of the Atlantic film. And then I told him to look, and then forget, and then move on, and then forget even more, and the bird in the wind, and the sea in the panes and windows in the walls. For a moment he did not know, he did not know anymore, he could not walk, he could not look any more. So I begged him to forget more and more, I told him it was possible, he could do it. He arrived there. He advanced. He looked at the sea, the lost dog, the bird in the wind, the windows, the walls. And then he came out of the Atlantic field. The film has emptied. She became black. And then it was seven o'clock in the evening on June 14, 1981. I thought I liked it. " Marguerite Duras.
"This very brief text is the transcript of the soundtrack of Marguerite Duras' latest film, made from Agatha film rushes or unlimited readings. This text is said in a fascinating way by the author on images of Yann Andrea walking in the deserted rooms of the villa of Agatha, on long sequences of black as well. This text can be read as written, even if its priority as a soundtrack is clear. One finds there a "you" which is perhaps the same as that of the three Aurélia Steiner: all the text is addressed to the Other, the man of the image undoubtedly, the one that the text makes pass in front of the camera , look at the camera, disappear from the field of the camera. This man, the actor, is the object of a love, of a finishing, finished love. The play of the text, the filmmaker, tells how, in the feeling of this end of love, ready for death, she wanted to write: to wash of this emotion, but that she could only make a film with the images of the beloved, the images of his presence and absence at a time. There is in L'Homme atlantique the cry, the call to the Other at the moment of death and the death of love; The other being watched by the camera, there is also a reflection on the cinema, the power of the filmmaker, the being of the actor; finally, a voice on the death of cinema and the refusal of representation. Upsetting state of extreme research. ".
"You and the sea, you are one for me, only one object, that of my role in this adventure.I also look at it.You must look at it like me, as I look at it, of all my strength, in your place.
You came out of the camera field.
You are absent.
With your departure your absence has occurred, it was photographed just like your presence.
Your life has moved away.
Your only absence remains, it is without any thickness henceforth, without any possibility to make a way, to succumb to desire.
You are no longer anywhere precisely.
You are no longer preferred
Nothing more of you is there than this floating, itinerant absence, which fills the screen, which people alone, why not, a plain of the Wild West, or this disused hotel, or these sands.
Nothing happens more than this absence drowned in regret and who will be so uneducated that we can cry.
Do not be overwhelmed by these tears, by this pain.
Keep forgetting, ignoring and becoming of all this and that of yourself. ". (Marguerite Duras)
You came out of the camera field.
You are absent.
With your departure your absence has occurred, it was photographed just like your presence.
Your life has moved away.
Your only absence remains, it is without any thickness henceforth, without any possibility to make a way, to succumb to desire.
You are no longer anywhere precisely.
You are no longer preferred
Nothing more of you is there than this floating, itinerant absence, which fills the screen, which people alone, why not, a plain of the Wild West, or this disused hotel, or these sands.
Nothing happens more than this absence drowned in regret and who will be so uneducated that we can cry.
Do not be overwhelmed by these tears, by this pain.
Keep forgetting, ignoring and becoming of all this and that of yourself. ". (Marguerite Duras)