Ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich

After a failed suicide, a young man (Claude Ridder, played by Claude Rich) is recruited as a volunteer in a time travel experiment that appears to leave him temporally disconnected and re-experiencing moments from his past. While clearly a 'science fiction' movie (the actual time machine is an odd organic tent-like structure with a form fitting couch from which the subject disappears and reappears), the time travel element serves only as a biographical framing device as Ridder flicks back and forth in his personal history and the story of his troubled love for depressed Catrine (Olga Georges-Picot) and the events leading to her death and his subsequent suicide attempt unwind in an non-linear, and sometimes repetitive, fashion. Helmed by French New Wave director Alain Resnais, the film has some odd flourishes (in one memory, Ridder is met by a man in formal dress and a 'gill-man' face (mask?)). The film never makes clear whether Ridder is physically in the past as an observer or is revisiting the past by occupying his own body. The mouse that he shares the time machine with does appear occasionally, but no explanation is offered. I am not sure if Claude and Olga's relationship would have been that interesting without the time-travel framework, but perhaps if I had been more attentive to details, I would have found the story less disjointed and more engaging. Interesting more than entertaining, the film is an interesting entry in the limited body of 1960's French Science fiction cinema but anyone expecting another 'Barberella' (1968) will be greatly disappointed. * to borrow Kurt Vonnegut's expression

After the political theme of "La guerre est finie",Resnais returns to his familiar subject,time,in all its complexity in this film which is almost as opaque as "Marienbad" or as unsettling as "Muriel".Ridder {Claude Rich,an actor whom Resnais used many times over the years}is a publisher whose girlfriend is accidentally killed and who feels in some way responsible for her death.After listening to a recording by Thelonius Monk,he unsuccessfully attempts suicide after which he has a lengthy recuperation in a hospital .When he leaves,two doctors who have a constructed a time machine ask if he would like to participate in their experiments. Having nothing to lose,he readily agrees and enters the bizarre contraption along with a white mouse,although unlike the fly in Cronenberg's film there is thankfully no genetic mutation involved. He does not travel forward in time,however,but back ,precisely one year to a beach in Brittany.The experiment is supposed to last for a minute but something goes wrong and he is trapped in the machine.Now he experiences a host of memories brought sharply back to life,some important,others banal,in a kaleidoscope of sharply edited images which brings to mind the montages of "Muriel".The theme is reminiscent of many films from "La Jetée" to "The eternal sunshine of the spotless mind" and this rarely seen film is definitely one of the most important of Resnais' career.

"Je T'aime, Je T'aime (1968, Alan Resnais), a rarely-seen science-fiction cult film, exercises the viewer's mind with superb style. As with the films of Jean Luc Godard, "Je T'aime" has a chaotic narrative which oozes with dystopian gloom. The non-linear structure is a bit fatiguing and frustrating. Still, I like it because of the arresting imagery and magnetic cast.

Claude Ridder (played by Claude Rich), who has held many different office jobs, has recently survived a suicide attempt. When leaving the sanitarium, Claude is approached by creepy members of a secret organization which is conducting time-travel experiments. At the remote facility he is encouraged to allow the scientists to transport him back a year in time for a minute. The scientists tell him that they have successfully conducted this experiment with lab mice and now need him for the first human trial. A few days later, Claude and a mouse (in a small container) enter the Time Machine (which looks like a human brain from the outside). The Time Machine (TM) starts up. Woops—it immediately begins skipping like a dirty CD. While the scientists outside the TM lament their inability to stop it, Claude begins reliving short segments of his past randomly without end. He can exit the TM only after decompressing for four minutes; but the endlessly-looping Time Machine keeps interrupting the closing sequence. The repeated perspective of a large brain in the background with anxious scientists in the foreground worried about the brain's condition comments upon brainwashing.

It takes a while, but Claude's often repetitive flashbacks eventually reveal why he attempted suicide. A year ago Claude was on a Scotland vacation when his comely girlfriend Catrine (Olga Georges-Picot) died. The two were an exceptionally attractive couple. Nevertheless, she had been the one was always seriously depressed (long before Claude was). The two represent different types of depression. Catrina seems to be bipolar; while occasionally happy she invariably finds little about life to make her struggle worthwhile. Claude's state of mind is more connected with Catrina's poor mental health and inevitable death. He harbors feelings of guilt out of the belief he killed her.

The world-weary conversation between the two is usually compelling. Some of us wonder how exceptionally beautiful people can ever be suicidal. Catrina's enervated dialogue is even more heart-breaking when we consider that the stunning Olga Georges-Picot is playing herself. In real life, she struggled with depression for decades. (Unlike Claude Ridder's try, Olga Georges-Picot's 1997 suicide attempt did not fail.)

Visually, Resnais is superb. His color choices and use of the entire frame are remarkable. One often has the feeling of being in an art museum when viewing some of the imagery on display. The haunting, Gothic (and possibly Satanic) soundtrack from Krzysztof Penderecki is also very distinctive.

Catrina and Claude both share the belief that life is unendurable and look forward to an end to their suffering. Resnais has a cruel surprise in store for Claude: It turns out there won't be an escape to his torments. Cinephiles who don't mind putting in some effort should find out why. However, if you chose to arrive to the revival theater showing this by Time Machine please make sure it is under warranty.

This film's a landmark in french sci-fi. To be honest, french sci-fi can almost be summarized in 'La Jetée', 'Paris n'existe pas' (don't even try to find this one...) and 'Je t'aime, Je t'aime'. Watch the last to catch a glimpse of the process in which Resnais can create a powerful masterpiece out of nothing. The plot's rather simple; a neuropathed mood man (Claude Ridder) who tried to commit suicide is selected by a secret organisation in order to experiment a very dangerous and quite hopeless travel, a journey in his own past. If you ever experienced resnais' border lined cinema, you'll obviously understand that this movie will not use the same old usual vision of time travel, (basically 'where and when' HG Wells stuff ) Formally, try to see it as a sequel of emotional paintings of the hero's past life (more than 150 sequences from 2 seconds to 2 minutes, which may or may not have links between them), about the life which he and his accidentally past away wife Catrine tried to built in the late 60's in Paris. A forced introspection by the most violent and merciless way to revive key moments of his life (re-live them as they happen is the scientific purpose but why not re-live them mixed up with his subjectivity ? How great is the strengh of our past on the present when we have the opportunity to change it ? This film's also about weakness of memories in front of memory's complexity) brought by an organic space machine would of course make the travel more difficult than it is for his companion, an academical white mouse which allow itself to sneak into his past. Human perception of the so-called reality, our ability to create new ones every morning and every time 'self-interrogation about memory and memories' comes from the bottom of forgetfulness to the present moment to change our view on events are described in such a unique and powerful aesthetic way that this piece of cinematograph makes 'Je t'aime, Je t'aime' an unique experiment as 2001 is and will be. No less.

This is not a sci-fi movie in the normal sense of the word. It does not explore futuristic concepts or alien ways of thought. The sci-fi premise is nothing but a framework for a movie interested in seeing what happens if a movie is told entirely at random in little bits and pieces.

After establishing a few science rules, the protagonist is plopped into a brain-shaped tent so he can travel back in time and relive a single minute from a year ago. But once in the past he finds himself jumping from memory to memory. Some memories are a few seconds, some might last a minute. Some connect, some seem to be random.

Many of the moments center around a depressed woman, and the movie is an exploration of her, and him, and whatever surrounds that. There are also moments that are just odd, like an unexplained guy in a Halloween mask.

Unfortunately, none of this is all that interesting. The lead character is a lump and his women seem interchangeable. (For me that is literally the case; I have faceblindness and could not figure out which woman was in which scene, which means this movie was harder for me to follow than it would be for someone who didn't have issues recognizing faces).

The look is as bland as the characters, and the whole thing feels more like an intellectual exercise than a genuine attempt to say something about anything.