Alain Resnais's Hiroshima, Mon Amour feels stuck between two worlds. Thoroughly modern in style and structure it still feels so connected to the films of the 40s. Where as Godard and Truffaut were both clearly enfants terrible, Resnais's handful of years on them put him still with one foot in the tradition of classicism that the younger filmmakers have progressed from.
None of this is in any way a criticism, however. The film's presentation of a simple man and woman in love, is full of more human emotion than any of the classical melodramas that came before it. It seems to proceed from a simple logical argument. He says that she can never experience the pain of loss that those affected by Hiroshima feel, and she sets out to show him that he is wrong. Along the way we see feminine pain on the order of Dreyer and masculine repression of Hawks. A tragic, wonderful film.
None of this is in any way a criticism, however. The film's presentation of a simple man and woman in love, is full of more human emotion than any of the classical melodramas that came before it. It seems to proceed from a simple logical argument. He says that she can never experience the pain of loss that those affected by Hiroshima feel, and she sets out to show him that he is wrong. Along the way we see feminine pain on the order of Dreyer and masculine repression of Hawks. A tragic, wonderful film.
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