Bastards

"NO, David, that's not how you make a thriller." "But the script is based on a bestseller, sir." "Gettin' real tired of your shit, Fincher, now sit your ass down. Right. Uumm... Claire! Would you please come up here and show these nitwits a thing or two?" "Oui, monsieur Franz, if I must." *makes Bastards* "Yes! Yes!! See?! THAT'S HOW IT'S FUCKING DONE! Very good, Claire. Top notch. You may return to your seat."

So Claire Denis makes a thriller? The fragmented narrative is fascinating (and the early repetition is actually quite Ozu-esque!) but I guess what separates this from her best work is that I'm not sure I care about what unfolds. It feels like a technical exercise, she's at the height of her powers sure and this *is* perfect filmmaking, but it seems invested in a quite banal moral code.

Anything you can do, Claire Denis can do better.

Part psychological drama, part revenge thriller, Denis' Salauds enters the most perverted, filthy rooms of human soul through a story that is made not of victims, but demons, shot against red and brown walls and somber and blurry locations. Some might complain that the director has been "too narrative" since White Material, but every weird and uncomfortable sensation I had confirms that she also works well when there is a tight plot to develop -- and conflicts to solve.

Ugh! I was not at all on Denis' wavelength. Neither the fact that it's undeniably stylishly made nor the compentent performance by the actor in the main role can ameliorate that it's a rather messy and really disgusting film.

Ugghh

Star Rating: ★★★★

Accurate title. Think Chinatown - or Night Moves, for that matter - filtered through Denis' subdued melancholy. What's argued in all three of these films, but remains implicit here, is that a certain bread of wealthy businessman is little more than a sociopathic rapist, both literally and figuratively.

Neo-noir fantástico, não dá para ficar mais pessimista que isso quanto aos seres humanos. DVD Imovision.

Istanbul Film Festival & Sanirim gercekten Claire Denis sinemasini hissedemiyorum, anlayamiyorum.

Denis Villeneuve take note, this is how you do an arthouse thriller.

This film is a scathing critique of white European/Western affluence. I am thinking of the black doctor--a healer--as something of a purposeful counterpoint to the white characters. This "comfortable," affluent state of affairs has left people outside any sense of proper community life. All hands are dirty, not in service of some higher ideal, but in service of self-directed pleasures or monetary "needs."

Felt a bit empty - as if Denis is just going through the motions.

Wants to wallow in human degradation, but that doesn’t make it art. Even Lindon is unconvincing.