Her denial of ever meeting the man, along with her denial of ever being at Marienbad in the first place. Of course, that in itself means nothing if it is not taken with the dialogue pertaining to the use of force, particularly his denial. And as I mentioned in my previous post, it seemed to me that many of the scenes taking place were supposed to have been in the past, with the guests remaining still while both spoke of that encounter. Her memories of the encounter are static, like the guests, for how can they move if she has kept that memory locked away and still?Tribe wrote:I'm curious how you got around to the movie being the story of a rape. I'm not saying you're necessarily incorrect (it's never been important to me what the movie is about or whether it "means" anything...it's simply a beautiful and enthralling film to watch, as a result I've never tried to figure out for myself what is exactly happening), but I was wondering what you led you to believe that.Dr. Geek wrote: I interpreted the film as a story of a woman's rape and her blocking out all the memories that led up to it and possibly following it.
Perhaps the most obvious clues were the scenes revolving around the bedroom. Her pleading him to stay away, his speaking of locking the doors one by one, the broken glass. This is followed by the shots of her aghast, with the camera repeatedly cutting back as it approaches her multiple times, indicative of a violent event. The movement of the camera in that particular scene certainly suggested something has been done to her. I interpreted that as a rape.
). But then the focus and editing rhythms shift from everything/everyone in this time/place to just Albertazzi trying his damnest to convince Seyrig that they met before and they must run away. Improbably, against the odds the filmmakers themselves (and author Alain Robbe-Grillet) stack against us caring for these people as characters, I became entranced. Pitoëff, who's either guarding angel or prison guard (or neither), is both a cool mofo and a creepy dude whose presence breaks the pattern of the other two's back-and-forth. Then there are the visuals, which are just a rich tapestry of design elegance trapping underneath the creepiness of the unknown. Didn't care much for the organ music soundtrack ("Carnival of Souls" did it better) but if that's the way Resnais prefers to set his mood more power to him. The easiest or hardest conclusions about where/what is going on in movie (looks like an intellectual's version of hell) aren't the point of the "Marienbad" experience as much as whatever you take out of experiencing its visuals pushing forward the elliptical plot. Personally the persistence of 'X' in pursuing 'A' struck a chore with me as the obstinence of an obsessed (unwanted?) lover that will forever chase what he can never have: the trust of the object of his (twisted?) desire. I found it all tragically romantic, and framed in such a way that it susbcribes to Kubrick's technique of making all his moving images look like a series of still paintings that just happen to move at 24 frames per second.
