 La Jetée (1962) After all, isn't it better to speak less and say more? La Jetée was recast by Terry Gilliam as 12 Monkeys, which I haven't seen but I'm certain speaks more than it needs to without saying nearly as much. It's also the template for every sci-fi time-travel excursion you can name, and I'll include Back to the Future just to be generous. Remarkably, the story here is told entirely in still images and voice-over narration, neither of which will do the work for you in terms of following the plot or deciphering its meaning. It tells the tale of a post-WWIII prisoner subjected to experiments aimed at literally sending him to the past and the future via his memory and imagination. Haunted by a striking memory of his childhood, the man delves further and further into these parallel dimensions of invented reality until, in the film's most intimate and spellbinding moment, they become real. It is here that Marker employs the only moving images, a few frames only, just enough to suspend time and stop your heart a little as you realign your senses. As the film hurtles toward its conclusion, you are forced to question what you will accept even with a gigantic suspension of disbelief. And while you're struggling to take hold of something tangible, it sneaks up on you with the most tricksy Hobbit of a trick ending you'll find, even in the spate of tricksy trick-ending films that glutted the shelves for better and worse after The Usual Suspects. It's one of those films everyone should see, if only because any director worth their salt loves it, and probably rips it off. But the "influence" and "importance" of La Jetée are totally beside the point. It just fucking rules.
Review by Jacob Ocular-Migraine |
