Garoo

Even the ending, once you reach the point when something finally begins to happen, doesn’t quite justify having to go through the ninety preceding minutes; what makes the movie watchable isn’t the story, nor the porn scenes (Jane Campion must undoubtedly be a fan of Catherine Breillat, whose taste she also shares for terminally machist men) but the gorgeous images — they always are with Campion, they’re standing out all the more in a urban setting. Besides a thorough work on colors, so perfect it could be digital (but it might as well not be: I don’t know anything about film processing), there’s an amazing toying with depth of field, some shots looking like could not have been done without a tilt lens. That’s not something you’re used to see in a movie (and, incidentally, it’s a bit too eye-catching sometimes), and I’ll have to find information and confirmation of that.

And as the end credits roll I realize that my first musical emotion with a song (as opposed to Jean-Michel Jarre and similar stuff — what times I grew in) was Qué sera sera sung by Doris Day in The Man Who Knew Too Much. No idea why it stuck with me.

P.S. Once I looked up the English name for a tilt lens, I could find a confirmation on Google.