Toda una noche

Yet another interesting experiment, from the always self-challenging Chantal Akerman. Not my favorite of her films, but I almost always find her brave, creative work worthwhile, even when she only partly succeeds.

This follows over 24 different characters through one night in Brussels. It's a short film (80 minutes or so) , so each character only gets 2 or 3 'visits' -- each running from about 30 seconds to 2 minutes. We don't really get to know any of the people of the film, so the challenge is filling in for ourselves the stories that lie between the almost random moments of their lives we happen to see.

Some of it's quite funny, although keeping track of the stories can admittedly be hard. It's a film I don't 'enjoy' all that much while I was watching, but find oddly moving by the end. As in her even more experimental "Hotel Monterey', and 'News From Home', Akerman uses beautiful Edward Hopper like images of apartments and windows to create a mood of bittersweet sadness..

I would like to see a better copy than the old, long out-of-print VHS, which seems to be the only version ever put out for home viewing. Perhaps Criterion will continue their great work with Akerman's films and get to this and the rest that aren't available. (hint, hint)

This was a little special. "Toute Une Nuit" ("A Whole Night") hyperlinks several characters during a long night in Brussels, dealing with their love affairs, longings for their distant loved ones, or romantic moments and sometimes some separations and some new encounters. Chantal Akerman reveals through those small fragments and small particles of life little things that seem essential in relationships, like they're mandatory. If you ever been involved with someone, you'll go through all the stages presented here: dancing together, run into your loved ones arms, the small talks, the kisses, the disorientation of many lonely nights when the other one is not around and so on.

In an almost wordless and very quiet experience, it's up to us to imagine what goes through the characters' mind and their psyche. When the words aren't needed sometimes is easier (and more fascinating) to form a whole scenario. In the most funniest sequence, a love triangle, formed by two men and one woman, decide to ignore each other at a restaurant and you already get the sense that choices must be made, they aren't satisfied with the current situation. Next thing you know, one of the guys ask "Who are you leaving with tonight?". No answer is given, then the trio part different ways. The other couples in the film are less complicated but they have their fair share of obstacles, pleasant moments.

While the idea seems interesting, it's execution is tiring and poor. There's far too many characters to track down, and the voyeuristic look from the distance strangely captured by an affected cinematography hurts the experience. The director, however, is authentic with her love observations almost as if making a documentary on the stages of romance without using clichéd formulas, or making us attached to just one story (not all of them are interesting but they work their way out to make a whole picture). With the silence, the darkness comes the light of reflection, we are bound to perceive love in a different perspective. It's constantly made up of saying 'I Love You' all the time, it's more about gestures, intentions, actions, even when the other one is not around and even then you might find it difficult to say what's need to be said (beautifully presented with the worried guy who finds it extremely hard to write a letter to his boyfriend, who just walked through the door, going on a trip). It's in the trying, and it's on the connection made. For all the little things, "A Whole Night" overcomes its problems and becomes an enjoyable picture. Perfect for a silent night. 6/10

The night as blank canvas where people trace impulsive paths with their bodies, Chantal has twice before captivated me with something like this. She is a gentle soul, gentle in the distance from which she views, alert to the hum of transience. Once more she gives us yearning in faint orbits.

It's pure listless summer night this one, one of the most atmospheric works I've found. Life for her is woven from breath and space, the moment that fleets before we can hold onto. She captures marvelous moments here; my favorites show a little girl rushing down the stairs and out the house as lovers embrace in the street, a young couple eloping in the night from a veranda door.

She begins to lose me when it's about no life in particular. Jeanne Dielman and Anna's Meetings were embodied in a woman who wonders and waits as she makes her way. Here we follow a dozen people through a hot summer night in the city. They come and go from places, wait for someone, pursue or leave each other in the street. Utterances are few, we infer from glances and bodies. Embrace or the urge to escape from embrace that has grown tired is the recurring pattern.

It's even more abstract and sensory than before. Purely on a moment- by-moment basis it's marvelous work. But sprawling as we do, not knowing these people as more than figures going to and from, it becomes choreographed performance, a study of form rather than journey that cuts through it. Most likely this was the specific intention. It brought to mind Pina Bausch and her dances of impulse painting itself with bodies. I see that she would make a film on Pina soon after.

It's a very tender balance anyway. You want - as Ozu did early on - to sift through the clamor of life to find those moments that lay bare the heart that minds, the body that is kept awake at nights, but I would rather have it reflected back in a way that tethers me to sleepless nights I've known, as a consciousness that inhabits a world that surrounds, which is how we know the world. It always comes back to having this one body, and to land in brief moments of different lives, the tethers grow lax and it moves to an omniscient view, a formal visit.

But this is Chantal choreographing sketches on life as all this merry-go-round, viewers who are interested in form will have a ball.

Chantal Akerman's movies can be disconcerting: she is on the one hand a highly sensual filmmaker, with a great interest in textures and surfaces, and on the other hand, she can be highly conceptual. This combination can result in films which are enticingly seductive, or it can result in films which are abruptly alienating.

Of all her films, TOUTE UNE NUIT is one of the most seductive. Set during one night, it's a series of vignettes, some no more than a glimpse of a few seconds, of people at night. People sitting in bars near closing time. People sitting at home, waiting. People walking at night. The sense of anticipation, of yearning, becomes palpable.

Some vignettes are longer, but all these stories are fragmented: we're not given a real beginning, though we are given a few endings. There is no real dialogue: we just see a few gestures, a little action, but that's all.

People alone in a bar, then noticing each other. Will they make some sort of contact? A little girl packing her little suitcase: is she running away? Where? It's like we're given the bits and pieces of a larger narrative, but we have to decide what these bits and pieces mean. And then there are those encounters. Someone waiting alone in an apartment, when another person finally arrives. Two people running into each other on the street. All the meetings, often culminating in a kiss, seem to distill the most intense romantic desires.

We want these strangers to find a way not to be alone, and that desire on our part creates a tension which is tactile and erotic. Of course, Akerman has populated her night world with highly attractive people, so we are in a fantasy world of desire. TOUTE UNE NUIT is one of the most romantic movies that i've ever seen; it's funny that Akerman's most famous movie, JEANNE DIELMAN, is a long movie composed of very lengthy takes, while this movie is relatively short, with sharply edited, staccato little scenes. TOUTE UNE NUIT is almost the antithesis of JEANNE DIELMAN, but it shows Akerman in a romantic mood which is filled with yearning, desire and affection.

Akerman's Toute une nuit is a collection of vignettes depicting the fancies and dramatic moments of a number of people throughout one summer night. The film has little dialogue and relies on a remarkable series of contrasts for effect: a sultry night of deep, often painful depictions of passion visualized in a stark and grainy manner against the backdrop of a spiritless, bland Brussels.

Perhaps the film's greatest strength is the irony of richness in its seemingly static depiction. Each of the pictures is beautifully ephemeral, usually lasting no more than one action, movement, or event. They allow no real presentation of characters, but nonetheless show each 'character' in a special and unique way. At the end, it is possible to define each of these individuals distinctly from the careful balance of motions, occasional dialogue, and atmosphere in which they were presented.

For those dependent on (or at least accustomed to) an integrated style of narrative giving greater importance to dialogue, this can be a difficult film to watch. And for what one would expect for it to compensate in subtlety, it is often dry. It is well orchestrated nonetheless, a satisfying arc of characters and their interactions for a careful viewer.